BtfSB  UBRARY 


CHICKENS   AND    "  POETRY."     Page  111. 


THE  MARTIN  AND  NELLY   STORIES. 


NELLY'S    FIRST    SCHOOLDAYS. 


JOSEPHINE    FRANKLIN. 

AUTHOR  OF   "  NELLY  AND   HER   FRIENDS." 


BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED   BY   BROWN   AND    TAGGARD. 

25    AND    29    CORNHILL. 
1860. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 

BROWN  AND  TAGGARD, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


RIVERSIDE,   CAMBRIDGE  : 

STEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BT 
H.   0.  HOUGHTON  AND  COMPANY. 


LIST   OF   THE 


MARTIN    AND    NELLY    STORIES.' 


I.  NELLY  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

II.  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOLDAYS. 

IIL  NELLY  AND  HER  BOAT. 

IV.  LITTLE  BESSIE. 

V.  NELLY'S  VISIT. 

VI.  ZELMA. 

VII.  MARTIN. 

VIII.  COUSIN  REGTJLUS. 

IX.  MARTIN  AND  NELLY. 

X.  MARTIN  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

XI.  MARTIN  AND  THE  MILLER. 

XII.  TROUTING,  OR  GYPSYTNG  IN  THE  WOODS. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
MlLLY 7 

CHAPTER  H. 
"MELINDY" 25 

CHAPTER  HI. 

COMFORT'S  NEFFY 51 

CHAPTER  IV. 
"  LET'S  MAKE  FRIENDS  ! " 72 

CHAPTER  V. 
CHICKENS  AND  "POETRY" 109 

CHAPTER  VI. 
GETTING  LOST    ......  .129 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MILLY. 

NOT  very  far  from  Nelly's  home,  stood 
a  small,  time-worn,  wooden  house. 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  object  at  which 
to  look.  A  few  vines  that  had  been 
trained  over  one  of  the  front  windows, 
and  a  stunted  currant-bush  which  stood 
by  the  door,  were  the  only  green  things 
within  the  broken  fence.  In  summer, 
the  cottage  looked  bald  and  hot,  from 
its  complete  exposure  to  the  sun  (no 
trees  grew  near  to  shade  it),  and  in 


8  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

winter,  the  rough  winds  rattled  freely 
around  its  unprotected  walls. 

In  this  house  lived  a  family  by  the 
name  of  Harrow.  It  consisted  of  the 
widowed  mother,  a  woman  who  had 
once  moved  in  a  far  higher  sphere  of 
life,  and  her  two  daughters,  Milly  and 
Elinor.  There  was  a  son,  too,  people 
said,  but  he  did  not  live  at  home,  hav- 
ing had  the  ingratitude,  some  time  be- 
fore the  Harrows  moved  to  the  village, 
to  desert  his  home  and  run  away  to 
sea. 

Mrs.  Harrow  and  her  children  were 
very  poor.  No  one  knew  but  them- 
selves how  hard  they  found  it  to  get 
work  enough  to  earn  their  daily  bread. 
The  neighbors,  among  whom  they  were 
much  respected,  had  long  supposed  from 
many  outward  signs  that  the  family 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  9 

had  no  means  to  spare,  but  they  were 
far  from  conjecturing  that  often,  the 
mild,  patient-looking  Mrs.  Harrow,  and 
her  two  gentle  girls,  were  losing  their 
strength  from  actual  famine.  The  little 
money  they  had,  came  to  them  through 
their  own  exertions;  their  needle-work 
was  celebrated  far  and  near  for  its 
delicacy  and  exquisite  finish.  In  that 
small  neighborhood,  however,  the  sewing 
which  was  brought  to  them  to  un- 
dertake, did  not  amount  to  much,  and 
the  prices,  too,  were  low,  and  provision- 
rates  very  high. 

At  last,  just  as  despair  was  dawning 
on  the  household,  Elinor,  the  eldest 
daughter,  heard  of  a  situation  as  do- 
mestic in  the  family  of  a  farmer,  who 
lived  over  the  mountains,  near  Nancy's 
old  home.  The  poor  girl's  pride  was 


10          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

dreadfully  wounded  at  the  thought  of 
applying  for  such  a  place,  she  a  lady 
born  and  bred,  but  necessity  knew  no 
law,  and  a  few  days  only  elapsed  before 
pretty  Miss  Elinor  was  located  at  the 
farm  as  a  servant.  It  was  a  hard  trial ; 
mournful  tears  forced  themselves  from 
her  eyes  whenever  she  gave  herself 
time  to  think  about  such  a  state  of 
affairs. 

The  farmer  was  a  poor,  hard-working, 
painstaking  man,  and  his  wife  was  quite 
as  thrifty  and  industrious,  so  that  be- 
tween them  they  managed  to  lay  by  a 
little  money,  every  year,  in  the  Savings 
Bank. 

When  Elinor  came  to  them,  the  bus- 
tling farmer's  wife  could  not  realize  that 
the  tall,  pale,  elegant-looking  creature 
was  not  quite  as  able  to  rub  and  scrub 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  11 

from  »morning  to  night  as  she  was  her- 
self. She  did  not  take  into  considera- 
tion that  the  girl  was  unaccustomed  to 
much  hard  labor,  and  that  her  frame 
was  not  equal  to  the  burdens  that  were 
put  upon  it. 

The  consequence  was  that  when  Eli- 
nor went  to  her  room  at  night,  she  was 
too  completely  worn  out  to  sleep,  and 
in  the  mornings,  rose  feeling  sick  and 
weary.  She  did  not  complain,  however, 
but  went  about  her  duties  day  after 
day,  growing  gradually  more  pale  and 
feeble,  and  storing  in  her  system  the 
seeds  of  future  disease. 

When  the  farmer's  wife  saw  her  mov- 
ing slowly  around  her  tidy,  spotless 
kitchen,  she  thought  her  a  lazy  girl, 
and  often  told  her  so  in  a  loud,  sharp 
tone,  that  was  a  very  great  trial  to 


12          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

hear  patiently,  which  Elinor  alway*  did, 
and  then  set  about  working  more  stead- 
ily than  ever. 

So  the  weeks  went  on,  till,  one  morn- 
ing, the  maid  of  all  work  was  missing 
from  her  place.  She  had  been  seized 
with  a  sickness,  that  had  long  been  se- 
cretly hanging  over  her,  and  now  she 
•could  not  rise  from  her  bed. 

Martin,  a  boy  who  lived  at  Mr. 
Brooks',  told  Nelly  that  Miss  Elinor 
fell  at  her  post  like  a  sentinel  wounded 
on  duty. 

When  the  doctor  came,  he  informed 
the  farmer  and  his  wife  that  their  ser- 
vant had  lost  the  use  of  her  limbs, 
through  an  affection  of  the  spine,  which 
had  been  brought  on  by  lifting  too 
heavy  burdens,  and  she  was  indeed  as 
unable  to  move  hand  or  foot  to  help 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  13 

herself  as  a  baby  could  be.  Her  mind, 
however,  was  not  impaired.  The  farmer 
thought  it  would  have  been  fortunate 
if  it  had  been,  for  she  seemed  to  suffer 
such  terrible  mental  anguish  about  her 
misfortune,  and  the  new  care  and  mis- 
ery she  was  bringing  on  her  mother 
and  sister. 

The  farmer  took  her  home  in  his 
wagon,  a  confirmed  cripple.  Her  mother 
and  Milly  helped  him  to  carry  her  up 
to  her  old  bedroom,  and  there  she  lay, 
suffering  but  little  pain,  it  is  true,  but 
at  the  time  of  our  story,  having  no 
hope  of  recovery. 

The  days  were  very  long  to  Elinor 
now.  She  despised  herself  for  ever  hav- 
ing repined  at  fate  before.  What  was 
all  she  had  endured  previously,  to  this 
trial?  There  was  no  light  work  of  any 


14  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

kind,  not  even  sewing,  which  she  could 
do,  as  she  lay  on  her  bed,  and  this  made 
the  time  seem  longer.  She  was  forced 
to  be  idle  from  daylight  till  dark.  She 
could  have  read,  it  is  true,  but  she  had 
no  books,  and  to  buy  any  was  an  ex- 
travagance, of  which,  with  the  scanty 
means  of  the  family,  she  did  not  allow 
herself  to  dream. 

The  neighbors  were  shocked  to  hear 
of  Elinor's  misfortune.  They  visited  her, 
and  at  first,  sent  her  little  delicacies  to 
tempt  her  appetite,  but  by  and  by,  al- 
though they  pitied  her  as  much  as  ever, 
they  fiSrgot  her  in  the  events  of  their 
own  domestic  circles. 

One  very  cold  winter  night  Milly 
came  into  Mrs.  Brooks's  kitchen,  and 
asked  Comfort,  a  colored  woman  who 
worked  for  the  family,  where  her  mis- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  15 

tress  was.  Comfort  promptly  led  the 
way  to  the  sitting-room,  where  grouped 
coseyly  around  the  centre-table  were  the 
different  members  of  the  fanner's  family. 
A  bright  fire  blazed  on  the  hearth,  and 
the  woolen  curtains  were  tightly  drawn 
to  keep  out  the  winds  that  whistled 
around  the  farm-house. 

At  the  sight  of  this  picture  of 
comfort,  Milly's  pretty  lips  quivered. 
She  took  kind-hearted  Mrs.  Brooks 
aside. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Brooks,"  said  Milly,  "I 
must  say  it ;  we  are  starving !  Elinor 
lies  dying  with  cold  and  hunger,  in  her 
bed.  Mother  has  not  tasted  a  mouthful 
since  yesterday,  and  she  is  so  proud  she 
would  not  let  me  beg.  What  are  we  to 
do?  I  have  run  over  here  to  ask  your 
sympathy  and  aid,  for  we  have  not  one 


16          NELLY'S  FIKST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

friend  to  whom  we  feel  as  though  we 
might  apply." 

Tears  gathered  in  Milly's  eyes. 

"And  pray,"  said  the  farmer's  wife, 
"what  do  you  consider  me,  Milly,  if  not 
a  friend?  You  ought  not  to  have  de- 
layed so  long  in  this  matter.  I  feel 
really  hurt.  Why  did  you  not  come  to 
me  before?" 

She  led  the  way  into  the  kitchen  that 
the  young  girl's  sad  tale  might  not 
draw  upon  her  too  close  attention  from 
the  children. 

Milly  Harrow  sank  upon  a  seat,  before 
the  fire  on  the  hearth,  and  wept  such 
bitter,  heart-breaking  tears  as  it  is  to  be 
hoped  no  one  who  reads  her  story  has 
ever  known.  '  She  was  a  gentle,  refined, 
well-educated  girl  of  twenty,  and  had 
met  much  more  sorrow  than  happiness. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  17 

"Milly,"  said  the  fanner's  wife  kindly, 
and  advancing  as  she  spoke,  from  the 
open  door  of  the  pantry,  "  come  here  to 
the  table  and  see  how  a  bit  of  this 
roast  fowl  tastes.  And  try  this  glass  of 
currant  wine,  —  you  need  not  be  afraid 
of  it,  it  is  home-made.  While  you  are 
busy  with  it,  I'll  get  a  little  basket 
ready,  and  put  on  my  cloak  to  run  over 
with  you  when  you  go  back." 

Milly  blushed  crimson.  It  was  diffi- 
cult to  her  to  learn  the  hard  lessons  of 
poverty.  Nevertheless,  she  ate  some 
bread  and  cold  chicken,  and  was  quite 
ready  to  praise  the  delicate  wine  for  the 
grateful  warmth  it  sent  thrilling  through- 
out her  frame. 

When  she  had  finished,  Mrs.  Brooks 
was  ready  to  accompany  her,  and  Com- 
fort too,  having  received  private  instruc- 


18  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

tions,  stood  with  her  shawl  over  her 
head,  and  a  large  basket  of  wood  in  her 
hand. 

So  they  set  out  together,  Milly  lead- 
ing the  way,  the  snow  crunching  under 
their  feet,  along  the  path. 

In  a  short  time,  a  bright  fire  was 
burning  in  patient  Elinor's  room,  while 
the  remains  of  a  little  feast  on  a  table 
in  the  centre,  showed  that  the  family 
suffered  no  longer  from  the  pangs  of 
actual  starvation. 

Elinor  was  bolstered  up  in  bed,  look- 
ing like  a  wan,  despairing  woman  of  fif- 
ty, instead  of  a  girl  of  twenty-two.  Care 
and  sickness  had  aged  her  before  her 
time.  A  faint,  sweet  flush  was  dawning 
on  her  cheeks  to-night,  however,  for  she 
was  not  now  enduring  hunger,  and  Mrs. 
Brooks  sat  there  by  the  cheerfully  blaz- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  19 

ing  hearth  with  her  mother  and  sis- 
ter, and  talked  hope  into  all  their 
hearts. 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Mrs.  Harrow," 
said  the  farmer's  wife,  in  a  pleasant, 
hearty  tone,  "we  must  set  this  Milly  of 
yours  to  work.  Things  ought  not  to  go 
on  this  way  with  your  family  any  longer." 

"Work!"  echoed  Milly,  a  little  bit- 
terly; "I've  seen  the  time,  dear  Mrs. 
Brooks,  when  I  would  have  given  any- 
thing for  a  month's  work.  Only  tell  me 
something  to  do,  and  see  how  grateful 
I  shall  be." 

"  Well,"  said  the  farmer's  wife,  "  the 
darkest  hour  is  just  before  day,  Milly; 
who  knows  but  that  yours  is  now  over, 
and  dawn  is  coming.  I  have  been  think- 
ing about  your  opening  a  school." 

Mrs.  Harrow  clasped  her  hands  eagerly. 


20          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  Oh,  if  she  could  !  oh,  if  she  could ! " 
she  cried.  "But  who  would  think  of 
sending  their  children  to  us,  when  there 
are  already  two  or  three  other  schools 
in  the  village?" 

"Miss  Felix  is  just  giving  hers  up, 
and  is  going  to  the  city,"  said  Mrs. 
Brooks.  "I  know  it  to  be  a  fact,  be- 
cause I  went  to  see  her  about  taking 
Nelly  last  week.  That  will  be  quite  an 
opening.  I  can  go  to  her  to-morrow, 
get  a  list  of  her  pupils,  and  call  on  the 
parents  to  secure  their  good-will,  if  you 
say  so,  Milly." 

Milly  could  scarcely  answer  for  sob- 
bing. At  last  she  said  in  a  broken 
voice,  "  dear,  dear  Mrs.  Brooks,  this  is 
more  than  I  have  any  reason  to  hope. 
How  can  I  ever  repay  you  for  your 
kindness  ?  " 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  21 

"By  taking  good  care  of  Nelly  when 
I  send  her  to  you  as  your  first  pupil," 
was  the  cheerful  reply.  "And  now  let 
me  see  what  are  your  accommodations. 
You  must  have  our  Martin  for  a  day  or 
two,  to  knock  you  together  some  long 
benches  with  backs,  and  Comfort  can 
help  you  cover  and  cushion  them  with 
some  old  green  baize  that  I  have  in 
the  garret.  What  room  can  you  give 
to  the  use  of  the  schoolmistress,  Mrs. 
Harrow?" 

"Well,"  said  the  old  lady,  smiling  for 
the  first  time  in  a  month,  "  the  front 
room,  down-stairs,  is  best,  I  think,  be- 
cause it  opens  directly  on  the  road.  I 
can  take  the  furniture  out,  (what  there 
is  of  it!)  and  clean  it  up  like  a  June 
pink,  in  a  day  or  two." 

"The    carpet    is    rather    shabby    and 


22  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

threadbare,"  suggested  Milly.  "And  lit- 
tle pegged  shoes  will  soon  spoil  it  com- 
pletely," added  Mrs.  Brooks.  "I  should 
say  a  better  plan  will  be  to  take  it  up 
entirely.  A  clean  board  floor,  nicely 
swept  and  sanded  every  morning,  is 
plenty  good  enough.  What  books  have 
you,  Milly?" 

"All  my  old  school-books,  and  broth- 
er's, and  Elinor's  too,"  said  the  young 
girl.  "That  will  do  to  begin  on  till  the 
pupils  purchase  their  own." 

"I  could  teach  French,"  put  forth  Eli- 
nor's voice  from  the  bed, — "that  is,  if 
it  would  answer  for  the  class  to  come 
up  here.  You  know,  mother,  I  used  to 
speak  it  fluently  when  I  was  at  Mad- 
ame Thibault's.  Don't  you  think  I 
might  try?  My  voice  and  my  patience 
are  strong,  if/  am  not;"  and  she  smiled, 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  23 

oh,  such  a  smile !  It  brought  tears  into 
the  eyes  of  all  in  that  poor,  little,  deso- 
late apartment. 

«  Try  ! "  said  the  fanner's  wife ;  "  why, 
Elinor,  that  is  just  the  thing  for  you! 
You  may  count  me  as  one  in  your  class. 
It  was  only  yesterday  I  was  regretting 
having  no  opportunity  to  practise  what 
little  of  the  language  I  know  already. 
We  must  arrange  your  room  a  little, 
Ellie,  and  have  everything  looking 
spruce,  and  Frenchified,  eh  ? " 

At  this  Elinor  herself  began  to  cry. 

"  You  are  so,  s-o-o  g-o-o-o-d,"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"Good!  Not  at  all!"  said  Mrs. 
Brooks ;  and  by  way  of  proving  how 
far  from  good  she  was  really,  she 
hopped  up  like  a  bird,  and  was  at 
the  bedside  in  a  minute,  smoothing 


24  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

out  the  pillows  and  kissing  Elinor's  pale 
forehead. 

"I'll  take  my  first  lesson  to-morrow 
afternoon/'  she  said,  "if  you  have  no 
objections;  and  your  kind  mother  here, 
can  begin  to  profit  herself  at  once  by 
your  labor,  and  send  over  to  our  meal- 
bag  and  dairy  as  often  as  she  pleases." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  25 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  MELINDT." 

MRS.  BROOKS  fulfilled  her  promise,  and 
so  faithfully  did  she  work  in  the  good 

cause,  that   a    dozen    little    pupils    were 
• 
engaged  for   Miss   Milly's    school   before 

preparations  were  fairly  made  to  open 
it.  These  did  not  take  long,  however, 
as  Miss  Felix,  the  teacher,  who  was 
going  away,  sent  to  Mrs.  Harrow's  house 
two  long  forms  of  desks  and  benches, 
with  her  compliments  and  best  wishes 
to  Milly  for  her  future  success. 

Milly  fairly  began  to  dance  around 
the  room,  in  the  new  joy  of  her  heart, 
on  receiving  this,  to  her,  valuable  present 


26  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"Everybody,"  she  said,  "must  not  be 
so  kind  to  us,  or  I  shall  have  a  sick- 
ness brought  on  by  too  much  happi- 
ness." 

Poor  Milly !  she  had  so  long  had  a 
"sorrow-sickness,"  that  the  present  good 
fortune  was  almost  too  much  to  en- 
dure. 

For  a  week  she  went  about  cleaning, 
and  sweeping,  and  dusting,  and  making 
ready  generally,  for  the  great  event, 
the  opening  of  her  school.  Singing  as 
gayly  as  a  lark,  she  moved  furniture 
up-stairs  and  down,  and  debated  over 
and  over  again  upon  the  best  arrange- 
ment for  effect.  The  front  room  was 
to  be  especially  devoted  to  the  use  of 
her  class.  The  carpet  was  removed,  and 
thoughtful  Miss  Felix's  desks  and  bench- 
es placed  in  it,  along  the  walls.  Mrs. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  27 

Brooks  sent  an  old  white  muslin  dress 
to  be  made  into  window-curtains,  and 
Martin  spent  a  whole  day  in  form- 
ing a  little  platform  out  of  boards,  on 
which,  when  covered  with  green  baize, 
the  teacher's  table  and  chair  were  to  rest. 

• 

Even  Elinor's  sick-chamber  assumed  a 
different  aspect.  One  day,  when  Mr. 
Brooks  was  in  the  village  on  business,  he 
stepped  into  a  paper-hanger's,  and  chose 
a  cheap,  but  pretty  paper  for  the  lime- 
washed  wall.  It  was  very  cheerful-look- 
ing, being  formed  of  alternate  stripes  of 
white  and  rose-color;  "for,"  said  the 
farmer,  when  he  reached  home,  "I  war- 
rant Miss  Elinor  grows-  tired  of  seeing 
the  same  cracks  in  the  plaster,  year  in 
and  year  out.  She  must  have  something 
new  and  gay,  like  this,  that  will  help 
to  keep  her  spirits  up ! " 


28  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Mrs.  Harrow  and  the  farmer's  wife 
pasted  this  paper  on  the  walls  them- 
selves, with  a  little  assistance  from  Nel- 
ly, who  stood  ready  to  lift  benches,  hand 
the  scissors  back  and  forth,  and  give 
any  other  slight  aid  of  which  she  was 

I 

capable. 

The  house  was  only  one-story  high, 
with  a  garret,  so  Elinor's  room  had  a 
slanting  roof  and  a  dormer  window.  Mrs. 
Brooks  said  it  would  be  a  great  im- 
provement, if  the  striped  paper  were 
pasted  on  the  ceiling  too,  and  joined  in 
the  peak  with  a  wood-colored  border  re- 
sembling a  heavy  cord  or  rope.  This 
made  the  place  look,  when  it  was  done, 
like  a  pink  canvas  tent.  The  change 
was  wonderful.  An  imitation  of  a  pair 
of  tassels  of  the  same  color  and  style  as 
the  rope  border,  which  the  paper-hanger, 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  29 

hearing  of  the  design,  sent  to  the  house 
as  a  present  to  Miss  Elinor,  when  pasted 
carefully  at  each  end  of  the  peak, 
against  the  wall,  made  the  illusion  per- 
fect. 

Elinor  said  she  lived  in  the  Tent  of 
Kindness. 

The  neighbors  who  came  in  to  inspect 
all  these  preparations,  said  Elinor's  was 
the  very  prettiest  dormer-room  they  had 
ever  seen.  There  was  enough  left  of 
the  old  dress  to  curtain  the  single  win- 
dow, which  being  done,  everything  was 
at  last  pronounced  to  be  in  a  state  of 
readiness. 

And  now  we  must  go  back  to  Nelly, 
who,  I  suppose,  some  of  my  readers 
remember,  is  the  adopted  daughter 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brooks.  Nelly  had 
known  much  sorrow  in  her  short  life, 


30  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

as  will  be  seen  on  reference  to  the  little 
story  called  "NELLY  AND  HER  FRIENDS." 
She  had  never  experienced  what  it  was 
to  be  loved  by  father  and  mother  till 
now;  and  when  the  farmer  and  his  wife 
began  to  teach  her  to  call  them  by 
those  sacred  titles,  she  felt  herself  a 
very  happy  kittle  girl.  She  was  delight- 
ed at  the  prospect  of  attending  school. 
She  had  never  been  to  one,  and,  there- 
fore, perhaps,  the  novelty  of  the  thing 
was  half  the  attraction. 

When  the  important  day  arrived,  and 
the  child  found  herself  seated  in  the 
class-room  with  twelve  or  fourteen  other 
little  folks,  she  was  filled  with  awe  and 
dismay,  so  much  so,  that  she  scarcely 
dared  turn  around  to  take  a  good  look 
at  her  next  neighbor,  a  girl  of  twelve, 
in  the  shy  dread  that  she  might  be 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  31 

caught  in  the  act,  which  circumstance 
would,  doubtless,  have  occasioned  her 
much  confusion. 

Miss  Harrow  did  not  give  her  pupils 
any  lessons  to  learn  this  first  morning. 
She  said,  as  no  one  had  books,  it  should 
be  a  Jay  of  pleasure  and  not  of  work, 
and  on  the  morrow  they  would  begin  to 
study  in  earnest. 

So,  during  the  whole  morning,  the 
children  drew  funny  little  pictures  on 
slips  of  paper,  which  were  handed  them 
for  the  purpose  of  amusing  them ;  and 
in  the  afternoon,  the  teacher  made  them 
pull  their  benches  close  to  the  fire, 
in  cosy  rows,  while  she  told  them 
stories. 

As,  with  the  deepest  interest,  Nelly 
gravely  listened,  she  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  this  was  just  the  best 


32  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

school  of  which  she  had  ever  heard, 
everything  was  so  pleasant. 

There  was  a  little  dark-haired  boy  in  a 
blue  jacket,  who  sat  near,  and  who  whit- 
tled her  pencil,  oh  so  sharp,  every  time 
she  blunted  it !  She  told  Comfort,  in  con- 
fidence, when  she  went  home,  that  this 
little  boy's  pictures  were  quite  as  good 
as  any  Martin  could  make.  He  drew 
ships  under  full  sail,  oh,  beautiful!  and 
as  for  those  men,  squaring  off  to  fight, 
up  in  the  corner  of  the  paper,  they 
made  you  think  at  once  of  Uz  and  Buz 
the  two  roosters,  that  quarrelled  every 
morning  in  the  barnyard,  about  which 
should  have  the  most  corn. 

In  a  week  or  two,  however,  NeUy's 
rapture  abated  somewhat;  and  one  day 
she  came  home  with  her  books  in 
her  hands,  and  threw  herself  on  one 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  33 

of  the  chairs  in  the  kitchen,  crying 
heartily. 

u  Heyday,"  cried  Comfort,  looking  up 
from  the  fire,  over  which  she  was  broil- 
ing a  fish.  "  Heyday,  what  ar*s  the 
matter  now  ?  " 

"  0  Comfort,"  cried  Nelly,  "  she  struck 
me,  she  struck  me,  before  them  all ! " 

"What!"  cried  Comfort,  standing  erect 
with  surprise.  "Miss  Nelly's  been  for 
whippin'  a'ready?  Why,  Nelly,  shame, 
shame !  Dis  yer  conduct  is  oncommon 
bad  of  yer." 

"It  wasn't  Miss  Harrow,  at  all,"  said 
Nelly,  reddening;  "it  was  that  horrid,  old 
thing,  Melindy." 

"Oh,  Melindy,"  echoed  Comfort,  in  a 
tone  of  relief. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Nelly,  "  she  tries  to 
get  me  to  laugh  in  school,  every  day. 


34  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

She  makes  eyes  at  me,  big,  round  ones, 
so,  Comfort." 

Comfort  chuckled. 

"I  don't  wonder  yer  laugh,  if  she 
does  that  way,  chile." 

"But  that  isn't  all,"  added  Nelly  in- 
dignantly. "  She  chews  paper-balls,  and 
sends  them  over  the  room,  right  at  the 
tip  of  my  nose.  Sometimes  they  stick 
there  a  second  or  so,  till  I  can  put  up 
my  hand;  and  then  the  scholars  giggle- 
like.  Oh,  you've  no  idea,  Comfort,  what 
an  awful  girl  Melindy  is.  She  punches 
me,  too." 

«  Punches,  Nelly  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  to-day,  when  school  was 
out,  she  gave  me  such  a  whack,  —  right 
in  my  ribs;  shall  I  show  you  how,  Com- 
fort?" 

uNo,  thank    yer,"    answered    the    old 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  35 

woman,  laughing.  She  had  a  cause  for 
being  good-humored  that  day.  "  But 
why  whack  such  a  little  critter  as  you 
be,  Nell?" 

"Oh,"  said  Nelly,  hesitating,  "she 
knows." 

Something  in  her  manner  made  Com- 
fort suspicious.  She  sat  down  and  called 
Nelly  to  her.  Taking  hold  of  both  her 
hands,  she  looked  her  full  in  the  eyes. 

"Speak  the  truff,"  she  said;  "didn't 
yer  whack  Melindy  fust  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Nell,  with  a  curious  mix- 
ture of  honesty  and  triumph,  "  I  did, 
Comfort ;  I  gave  her  a  good  one,  /  tett 
you  I  I  didn't  stop  to  think  about  what 
I  was  doin'  till  I  felt  her  whackin'  o'  me 
back  again." 

"Then  she  sarved  yer  right,"  said  the 
old  colored  woman,  going  back  to  her 


36          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

fish,  "and  I  hope  she'll  treat  yer  so  ev- 
ery time  yer  begin  the  aggrawation." 

"  But  she  snowballed  me  first,  and 
called  out  that  I  was  nobody's  child, 
and  was  taken  out  of  the  streets,  and 
such  like.  I  couldn't  stand  that,  anyhow. 
I  had  to  whack  her,  Comfort." 

u  No  you  hadn't,"  said  Comfort,  stern- 
ly, and  at  the  same  time  gesticulating 
earnestly  with  the  fish-fork.  It  wasn't 
your  part  to  do  any  punishin',  whatsom- 
ever.  Leastways,  no  punishment  but 
one." 

"And  what's  that?"  demanded  Nelly, 
making  large  A's  and  O's  in  the  steam 
that  had  settled  on  the  windows.  Here 
Martin  suddenly  put  down  a  big  news- 
paper he  had  been  reading  in  a  corner, 
and  which  had  hidden  him  entirely 
from  view. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  37 

"Have  you  so  soon  forgotten  your  old 
rule  of  good  for  evil,  Nell  ? "  he  asked. 
"  Don't  you  know  that  is  what  Comfort 
means  ?  " 

Comfort  nodded  at  him  approvingly. 

"  But  Melindy  is  ugly,  powerful  ugly, 
Martin,"  said  Nell,  coloring,  "and  any- 
way she  will  knock  all  us  little  girls. 
It's  born  in  her.  I  think  she  must  have 
been  meant  for  an  Indian,  that  pulls  the 
hair  off  your  head,  like  mother  told  us 
about.  Doing  good  to  Melindy  is  just 
of  no  account  at  all." 

"  Did  you  ever  try  it  ?  "  asked  Martin. 

"Well,  no-o.  You  see  I  could  tell  it 
was  of  no  use.  And  Miss  Harrow,  she 
stands  Melindy  on  a  chair  with  a  paper 
cap  on  her  head,  every  day,  at  dinner- 
time." 

"  Poor  girl,"  said  Martin,  "  I  am  sorry 
for  her." 


38          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"I'm  not,"  said  Nell,  promptly,  "it 
keeps  her  from  mischief,  you  know." 

Martin  was  silent. 

Comfort  began  to  sing  a  tune  over 
her  fish,  interrupting  herself  at  times 
with  a  low,  quaint  laugh,  as  though  par- 
ticularly well  pleased  with  some  thought. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Comfort  ?  "  asked 
Nelly. 

"Oh,  nuthin',"  was  the  answer;  "I 
guess  I'm  not  very  miserable  to-day, 
that's  all;"  and  off  she  went  in  a  chuckle 
again. 

"Nelly,"  said  Martin,  after  another 
grave  pause,  "you  used  to  be  a  better 
girl  than  you  are  now.  Last  summer, 
about  the  time  Mann  Lizy  died,  you 
tried  ever  so  hard  to  be  good,  and  you 
improved  very  much  indeed." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Nell,  a  little  sadly, 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  39 

^ 

"  and  I  would  be  good  now,  if  it  wasn't 
for  Melindy  Porter.  Ever  since  I've 
been  to  school  I've  felt  hard  and  wick- 
ed. She  torments  and  worries  me  so, 
that  I  think  sometimes  there's  no  use  in 
try  in'  to  be  good  at  all.  I  do  and  say 
wrong  things,  just  when  I  don't  mean 
to,  all  along  o'  Melindy." 

"  If  you  and  Melindy  were  friends,  you 
wouldn't  feel  so,  would  you  ?  " 

"I  s'pose  not,  but  who  .wants  to  be 
friends  with  anybody  like  tlutt  ? "  was 
the  ready  retort. 

"Still,  you  would  rather  be  friends 
than  enemies,  Nell,  wouldn't  you  ?  You 
would  prefer  that  this  little  girl"  — 

"Big  one,  ever  so  big,"  interrupted 
Nelly,  quickly. 

"You  would  prefer  that  this  big  girl, 
then,  should  bear  you  no  malice,  even 


40          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

- 
if  you  didn't    like    her,  and    she    didn't 

like  you.     Isn't  it  so  ?  " 

u  Well,  yes.  I  would  like  to  have  her 
stop  pinchin'  and  pullin'  the  hairs  of  all 
o'  us  little  ones.  That's  what  I'd  like, 
Martin." 

"That's  easy  done,  Nelly,"  said  Martin 
in  a  confident  tone. 

"Easy,  Martin?     How  easy?" 

"Be  kind  to  her.  Show  her  that  you 
bear  her  no  ill  feeling." 

"But  I  do  bear  her  ill  feeling,  Martin ! 
What's  the  good  of  fibbing  about  it  to 
her?  I  can't  go  to  her  and  say,  'Melin- 
dy,  I  like  you  ever  so  much,'  when  all 
the  time  I  despise  her  like  poison,  can  I  ? 
I  am  sure  that  wouldn't  be  right." 

"No,"  broke  in  Comfort,  "that  ar 
wouldn't  be  right,  Martin,  for  sartain." 

Martin  looked  a  little  puzzled. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  41 

"But,  Comfort,"  he  said  at  length,  «I 
don't  want  her  to  speak  pleasantly  to 
Melindy  till  she  feels  pleasantly.  That's 
the  thing.  I  wouldn't  have  Nell  act  an 
untruth,  a  bit  more  than  I'd  have  her 
tell  one.  But  I  do  want  her  to  try 
to  feel  like  givin'  Melindy  a  little  good 
for  her  evil." 

Martin  said  this  with  such  a  pleading, 
earnest  look,  smiling  coaxingly  on  Nelly 
as  he  spoke,  that,  for  the  moment,  the 
heart  of  the  little  girl  was  softened. 

"  Well,  Martin,"  she  said,  "  you  are 
always  preachin'  ar'n't  you  ?  But  it's 
nice  preachin'  and  I  don't  hate  it  a  bit. 
Some  day,  when  I  get  real,  awful  good, 
you'll  leave  off,  won't  you  ?  I'll  think 
about  Melindy,  and  may-be  I  can  screw 
my  courage  up  to  not  mind  bein' 
cracked  at  by  her." 


42  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"Pray  for  them  that  uses  yer  spite- 
fully/' said  Comfort  with  solemnity. 

Nelly  seemed  struck  by  this. 

"  What,  pray  for  Melindy  ?  "  she  asked 
meditatingly. 

"ChiTen,"  said  the  old  woman,  "don't 
never  forget  that  ar  mighty  sayin'.  Yer 
may  be  kind  and  such  like  to  yer  en- 
emys,  but  if  yer  don't  take  time  to 
pray  for  his  poor  ole  soul's  salvation, 
you  might  as  well  not  do  nuthin'.  That's 
the  truff,  the  Gospil  truffi" 

"Well,"  said  Nell  with  a  deep  sigh, 
"I'll  pray  for  Melindy  then,  and  for 
that  bad,  little  Johnny  Williams,  too, 
to-night  when  I  go  to  bed;  but  I  shall 
have,  oh,  Comfort,  such  hard  work  to 
mean  it,  here!"  and  her  hands  were 
pressed  for  an  instant  over  her  breast. 

The   next  morning,  just  as  Nelly  was 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          43 

starting  for  school,  Martin  drew  her, 
mysteriously,  aside. 

"Which  hand  will  you  have,  Nell?" 
he  asked,  holding  both  behind  him. 

"  This  one,"  she  said,  eagerly,  touching 
the  right  hand,  in  which  she  had  caught 
a  side  glimpse  of  something  glittering 
like  burnished  gold. 

Martin  smilingly  extended  towards  her 
a  small,  oval  box,  covered  with  a  beautiful 
golden  paper. 

"How  very,  very  lovely,"  cried  Nell, 
opening  it. 

"  It  is  yours,"  said  Martin,  "  but  only 
yours  to  give  away.  I  want  you  to  do 
something  with  it." 

"  Can't  I  keep  it  ?  Who  must  I  give 
it  to?" 

"Melindy!" 

"  Oh,  Martin,  I  can't,  I  just  can't,  — 
there ! " 


44  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"Then  you  don't  wish  to  make  her 
good,  Nell!  You  want  her  to  be  cruel 
and  wicked  and  hard  as  long  as  she 
lives!" 

"Oh  no,  no,  I  don't  wish  that  nmv.  I 
prayed  for  her  last  night."  The  last  sen- 
tence was  added  in  a  very  low  tone. 

"You  refuse  then?" 

She  looked  at  him,  sighed,  and  turned 
away. 

Martin  put  his  box  in  his  pocket,  and 
walked  off  in  the  direction  of  the  barn. 

At  dinner-time,  Nelly  came  home  quite 
radiant.  Lessons  had  gone  smoothly. 
Miss  Harrow  had  praised  her  for  in- 
dustry at  her  books,  "and,  would  you 
believe  it,  Martin,"  she  added  in  an  ac- 
cent of  high  satisfaction,  "  Melinda  didn't 
make  but  two  faces  at  me  all  the  whole 
morning !  Wasn't  that  nice  ?  They 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          45 

were  pretty  bad  ones,  though, — bad 
enough  to  last!  She  screwed  her  nose 
all  up,  this  way !  Well,  if  you'll  give 
me  the  box  now,  I'll  take  it  to  her 
this  afternoon.  I  don't  feel  hard  against 
Melindy  at  all,  now." 

Martin  brought  it  to  her  after  dinner, 
with  great  alacrity;  and  Nell  walked 
very  slowly  to  school  with  it  in  her 
hands,  opening  and  shutting  the  lid  a 
dozen  times  along  the  road,  and  eyeing 
it  in  an  admiring,  fascinated  way,  as 
though  she  would  have  no  objection 
in  the  world  to  retain  possession  of  it 
herself. 

It  was  a  hard  effort  to  offer  it  to 
Melinda.  So  pretty  a  box  she  had 
never  seen  before. 

"I  mean  to  ask  Martin,"  she  thought, 
*  if  he  cannot  find  me  another  just  like  it." 


46  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Near  the  door  of  Mrs.  Harrow's  little 
house,  Nelly  encountered  her  tormentor, 
quite  unexpectedly.  She  was  standing 
outside,  talking  in  a  loud,  boisterous 
way  to  two  or  three  of  the  other  chil- 
dren. Melinda  was  a  tall,  rather  good- 
looking  girl,  of  about  fourteen  years  of 
age.  She  was  attired  in  a  great  deal  of 
gaudy  finery,  but  was  far  from  being 
neat  or  clean  in  appearance.  At  the 
present  time,  a  large,  freshly-torn  hole 
in  her  dress,  showed  that  in  the  in- 
terval between  schools,  she  had  been 
exercising  her  warlike  propensities,  and 
had  come  off,  whether  victor  or  not,  a 
little  the  worse  for  wear.  Her  quilted 
red  silk  hood  was  now  cocked  fiercely 
over  her  eyes,  in  a  very  prophetic  way. 
Nelly  knew  from  that,  as  soon  as  she  saw 
her,  that  she  was  in  a  bad  frame  of  mind. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          47 

Not  daring  to  speak  to  her  then, 
Nelly  was  quietly  proceeding  towards 
the  door  of  the  school,  when  with  one 
or  two  tremendous  strides,  Melinda  met 
her  face  to  face. 

"  How  did  you  like  the  big  thumping 
I  gave  you  yesterday  ? "  she  asked,  with 
a  grim  smile. 

Nelly  walked  on  very  fast,  trying  to 
keep  from  saying  anything  at  all,  in  the 
fear  that  her  indignation  might  express 
itself  too  plainly. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak  up  ? "  cried 
Melinda. 

Still  Nelly  went  on  in  silence.  Me- 
linda walked  mockingly  side  by  side 
with  her,  burlesquing  her  walk  and  seri- 
ous face.  At  last,  irritated  beyond  con- 
trol, Melinda  put  out  suddenly  one  of 
her  feet,  and  deliberately  tripped  up  her 


48  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

little  schoolmate,  who,  before  she  could 
even  cry  out,  found  herself  lying  flat  on 
her  nose,  on  the  snow. 

The  attack  was  made  so  abruptly,  that 
Nelly  had  no  time  to  see  what  was  com- 
ing. Confused,  stunned,  angry,  and  hurt, 
she  raised  herself  slowly  to  her  knees 
and  looked  around  her.  There  was  at 
first,  a  dull,  bruised  feeling,  about  her 
head,  but  this  passed  away.  Something 
in  the  deadly  whiteness  of  her  face 
made  Melinda  look  a  little  alarmed,  as 
she  stood  leaning  against  the  wall,  ready 
to  continue  the  battle,  if  occasion  re- 
quired any  efforts  of  the  kind ;  but 
knowing  well,  in  the  depths  of  her  cow- 
ardly heart,  that,  as  the  largest  and 
strongest  child  at  school,  her  victims 
could  not,  personally,  revenge  them- 
selves upon  her,  to  any  very  great 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  49 

extent.  Looking  her  companion  in  the 
eyes,  like  a  hunter  keeping  a  wild  ani- 
mal at  bay,  Nelly  staggered  to  her  feet. 
She  had  meant  to  be  so  good  that  day! 
And  this  was  the  encouragement  she  re- 
ceived! Truly,  the  influence  of  Melinda 
on  Nelly's  character  was  most  perni- 
cious. All  the  evil  in  her  nature  seemed 
aroused  by  the  association.  Tears,  not 
resulting  from  physical  pain,  but  from 
the  great  effort  she  still  made  to  control 
her  temper,  rose  to  her  eyes,  as  she  saw 
a  sneering  smile  on  Melinda's  counte- 
nance. Till  now  she  had  striven  to  bear 
Martin's  advice  in  mind;  but  as  this 
sneering  smile  broke  into  an  ill-natured 
laugh,  Nelly's  self-control  gave  way. 
Her  face  burned.  She  tossed  the  little 
golden  gift,  with  disdainful  roughness,  at 
her  persecutor's  feet,  and  said,  in  a 


50  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

gruflj  and  by  no  means  conciliating 
voice, — 

"There's  a  box  for  you,  Melindy. 
And  Martin  says  I  mustn't  hate  you  any 
more.  But  I  do,  worse  than  ever! 
There ! " 

Melinda  gave  a  contemptuous  snort. 
She  walked  up  to  the  little  gilt  box,  set 
her  coarse,  pegged  shoe  upon  it,  and 
quietly  ground  it  to  pieces.  Then,  with- 
out another  word,  she  pushed  open  the 
school-room  door,  entered,  and  banged  it 
to  again,  in  poor  Nelly's  red  and  angry 
face.  The  child  leaned  against  the  house 
and  cried  quietly,  but  almost  despairingly. 

"I  wanted  to  be  good,"  she  sobbed; 
"  I  wanted  to  be  good  so  much,  but  she 
will  not  let  me ! " 


* 
* 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  51 


CHAPTER   III. 
COMFORT'S  NEFFY. 

"  COMFORT,"  said  Nell,  that  night,  lean- 
ing her  head  on  her  hand,  and  looking 
at  the  old  woman  sideways  out  of  one 
eye,  as  she  had  seen  the  snowbirds  do 
when  they  picked  up  the  crumbs  every 
morning  around  the  kitchen  door,  "Com- 
fort, can't  you  tell  me  what  you  were 
laughing  about  yesterday  afternoon, 
when  you  were  br'iling  of  the  fish  for 
tea  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Comfort,  «I  think  I  can." 
Nelly  sat  waiting  to  hear  the  expected 
revelation,  yet  none  came.     Comfort  was 
busy   with   her    pipe.      She    paused    ev- 


52  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

ery  now  and  then  to  puff  out  great 
misty  wreaths  of  bluish-gray  smoke, 
but  she  didn't  condescend  to  utter  one 
word. 

"  Comfort,"  said  Nelly,  getting  impatient, 
"  why  don't  you  tell  me,  then,  Comfort  ?  " 
"Tell  yer  what,  chile?" 
"  What  you  said  you  would." 
"  I  never  said  I  would ;   I  said  I  could. 
Be  more   petik'lar  with    yer    'spressions, 
Nelly.     And     'sides     that,     yer     hadn't 
oughter    say  'Wiling   fish.'     Missus  don't. 
Leave    such    words    to    cullu'd     passons, 
like  me." 

"Well,  but  tell  me,"  persisted  NeUy, 
smilingly,  brimming  with  the  curiosity 
she  could  not  restrain.  "  I  know  it  was 
something  good,  because  you  don't  often 
laugh,  Comfort." 

"  No,"  said  Comfort,  "  that  ar's   a  fact 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  53 

I  don't  'prove  of  little  bits  o'  stingy 
laughs,  every  now  and  then.  I  likes 
one  good  guffaw  and  done  with  it." 

"Well,"  said  Nelly,  "go  on.  Tell  me 
about  it." 

"Yer  see,"  said  Comfort,  taking  her 
pipe  from  between  her  lips,  and  giving 
a  sudden  whirl  to  the  smoke  issuing 
from  them,  "  Yer  see,  Nelly,  I  was  laugh- 
in'  'bout  my  nefiy." 

"Your  neffy,  Comfort?    What's  that?" 

"  Lor  !  do  tell !  Don't  yer  know  what 
a  neffy  is  yet?  I  didn't  'spect  yer  to 
know  much  when  yer  was  Marm  Lizy's 
gal,  but  now,  when  Mrs.  Brooks  has 
adopted  of  yer,  and  sent  yer  to  school 
to  be  edicated,  we  look  for  better 
things.  Don't  know  what  a  neffy  is, 
eh?" 

"No,"    said    Nelly,    looking    somewhat 


54  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

disturbed.  "Tell  me,  Comfort.  Is  it 
something  that  grows  ?  " 

"  Grows !  "  screamed  Comfort,  bursting 
into  a  laugh  that  certainly  was  not  a 
stingy  one;  "Grows!  Goodness!  hear  this 
yere  chile!  Ho,  ho,  ho!  I — 'blieve — I 
shall — crack  my  poor  ole  sides!  Grows! 
Oh  my ! " 

"You  mustn't  laugh  so,  Comfort,"  said 
Nelly,  with  dignity,  "you  make  me  feel, 
— well,  leastways,  you  make  me  feel 
real  bad." 

"  Oh  dear,  dear,"  mumbled  the  old 
woman  in  a  faint  voice.  "That  does 
beat  all!  Why,  see  here,  Nelly, — 'spose 
now,  I  had  a  sister  once,  and  that  ar 
sister  got  married  and  had  a  little  boy, 
what  ought  he  to  call  me,  eh  ? " 

"  Why,  his  Aunt  Comfort,  to  be  sure," 
was  the  reply. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  55 

"And  I  ought  to  call  him  neffy  John, 
or  Johnny,  for  short,  oughtn't  I?  Well, 
it  was  'bout  my  neffy  Johnny  I  was 
laughin'  yesterday.  •  Now  I'll  tell  yer 
how  it  was,  sence  I've  done  laughin' 
'bout  him  to-day, — oh  my!  You  see, 
Johnny  is  a  slave  down  South,  ever  so 
far  off,  on  a  rice  plantation." 

"  Slave  ?  "  repeated  Nelly,  with  grow- 
ing interest;  what's  slave,  Comfort?" 

"  Oh,  somethin'  that  grows,"  answered 
Comfort,  chuckling.  "A  slave  is  a  black 
man,  woman,  or  chile  that  has  a  marster. 
This  marse,  as  we  call  him,  can  sell  the 
slave  to  anybody  for  a  lot  o'  money,  and 
the  poor  slave,  as  has  been  a  t'ilin', 
strivin'  soul  all  his  days,  can  say  nuthin' 
ag'in'  it.  It's  the  law,  yer  see." 

"Comfort,"  said  Nelly,  "stop  a  minute. 
Do  you  think  that  is  a  right  law?" 


56  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  No,"  said  Comfort,  "  I  can't  say  as  I 
does.  Some  marsters  are  good,  and  some, 
on  the  contrary,  are  oncommon  bad. 
Now  my  little  nefly  has  a  good  'un. 
Ever  sence  his  poor  mammy's  death,  I've 
been  savin'  and  savin',  and  t'ilin'  and 
t'ilin',  to  buy  Johnny  and  bring  him 
North,  'cause  I  set  a  good  deal  on  him. 
This  ere  good  marse  of  his  agreed  to 
let  me  buy  him,  when  he  was  nuffin' 
but  a  baby;  and  he's  been  keepin' 
of  him  for  me  all  this  yere  long 
time." 

"I'm  glad  I'm  not  Johnny,"  said  Nell, 
earnestly;  "If  bein'  a  slave  is  getting 
bought  and  sold  like  a  cow  or  a  dog,  a 
slave  is  just  what  I  don't  want  to  be. 
Hasn't  Johnny  any  relations  down  there, 
Comfort?" 

The  old  woman  shook  her  head. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  57 

"I'm  the  only  one  of  his  kin  in  the 
'varsel  world." 

"Poor  little  fellow!"  said  Nelly  medi- 
tating ;  "  I  don't  wonder  you  want  to 
buy  him.  How  old  is  he  ? " 

"Twelve  year." 

"And  you've  got  enough  money, 
Comfort?" 

A  bright  smile  beamed  suddenly  all 
over  that  dark  face. 

"  Ho  !  "  she  cried,  "  that  ar's  just  what 
I  was  laughin'  at  yesterday.  I  want 
only  a  leetle  more,  and  'deed,  my  neffy 
will  have  no  marse  ag'in, — only  a  miss- 
us, and  that'll  be  met  thank  the  Lord ! " 

The  old  colored  woman  tossed  her 
apron  over  her  head,  and  from  the  odd 
puffing  noises  that  immediately  began  to 
sound  from  behind  it,  Nelly  supposed  she 
was  weeping.  She  thought  she  must 


58          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

have  been  mistaken,  however,  the  next 
moment,  for  Comfort  pulled  down  the 
apron  a  little  savagely,  as  though 
ashamed  of  having  indulged  in  such  a 
luxury  as  a  private  groan  or  two,  and 
in  a  stern  voice  bade  Nelly  go  up  hi 
her  (Comfort's)  room,  feel  under  the 
bolster,  on  the  side  nearest  the  wall, 
and  bring  down  to  her  the  foot  of  a 
stocking  which  she  would  find  there. 

"And  don't  let  the  grass  grow  under 
yer  feet,  neither,"  said  Comfort,  by  way 
of  a  parting  benediction,  as  the  child 
softly  closed  the  door.  It  was  reopened 
almost  immediately,  and  Nelly's  smiling 
face  appeared. 

«I  say,  Comfort." 

"Well  chile,  what  now?" 

"  I'm  real,  real  sorry  for  that  little 
neffy  of  yours  you've  been  tellin'  me 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  59 

about.  And,  Comfort,  when  he  comes 
I'll  be  as  good  to  him  as  I  can.  I  was 
thinkin'  I  would  knit  a  pair  of  gray, 
woollen  stockings  to  have  ready  for 
him,  shall  I?  How  big  is  he?" 

"  'Bout  your  size,"  replied  Comfort. 
"The  notion  of  them  stockings  is  quite 
nice.  I'm  much  obleeged  to  yer,  Nel- 

iy" 

Nelly  looked  delighted,  and  started  to 
go  up-stairs  once  more.  In  about  a 
minute  and  a  half,  her  face  was  peering 
into  the  kitchen  again. 

"  Comfort,  I  guess  I'll  knit  a  red 
binding  at  the  top  of  the  stockings,  to 
look  handsome,  shall  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Comfort,  mightily 
pleased ;  "  that  will  make  'em  smart, 
won't  it?" 

"A     red     yarn     binding,"     continued 


60  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

the  little  girl,  "  knit  on  after  the 
stocking  is  toed  off, — a  binding  full  of 
little  scallops  and  such  like ! " 

"Laws,  chile,"  said  Comfort,  benignant- 
ly,  "  I  sorter  think  yer  might  stop  short 
of  them  scallops.  Neffy  won't  be  anx- 
ious about  scallops,  I  reckon,  seein'  as 
how  he  has  only  wored  nater's  stock- 
ings so  far,  with  no  petik'lar  bindin' 
at  all,  that  I  knows  on.  Come,  now, 
mind  yerself  and  run  up-stairs.  I  can't 
be  wastin'  all  my  time,  a-waitin'." 

Nelly  shut  the  door,  and  went  sing- 
ing up-stairs,  two  at  once,  while  the  old 
woman  employed  her  valuable  time  in 
smoking  her  pipe. 

In  a  short  time  eager,  young  footsteps 
were  heard  dancing  along  the  entry,  and 
into  the  room  came  Nelly,  looking  as 
happy  as  though  for  her  there  existed 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  61 

no  ill-natured  schoolmate  in  all  the 
world. 

"  Here  it  is ! "  she  said,  holding  tri- 
umphantly up  the  foot  of  an  old  stock- 
ing, ragged  at  the  edges,  but  scrupulous- 
ly clean, — the  same  in  fact,  from  which 
Comfort  had  once  given  her  a  small 
gift  of  money;  "here  it  is,  Comfort;  but 
didn't  I  have  a  powerful  hunt  for  it !  I 
dived  under  the  bolster  and  under  the 
mattrass, — at  the  foot, — at  the  head, — 
at  the  sides, — and  then  I  found  it  on  the 
sacking.  Hear  how  it  jingles !  What 
fun  it  must  be  to  earn  money,  Comfort! 
Do  look  at  my  hair, — if  I  haven't  got 
it  full  of  feathers,  poking  among  your 
pillows ! "  Sure  enough,  starting  up  all 
over  her  curls  were  gray  and  white 
downy  particles. 

"  Laws  sakes,"  exclaimed  Comfort,  help- 


62  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

ing  her  to  pick  them  ofi^  "that  ar  hole 
must  a  broke  loose  ag'in  in  my  bolster! 
I  can  sew  it  up  every  Saturday  night, 
and  sure  as  I'm  livin',  it  bursts  ag'in 
Monday  mornin'." 

" That's  'cause  your  brain  is  too  heavy; 
you've  got  too  many  thoughts  in  it,  per- 
haps," laughed  Martin,  who  entered  at 
that  moment,  and  began  to  stamp  the 
snow  from  his  feet  on  the  kitchen  door- 
mat. 

"0  Martin,"  cried  Nell,  "see  how  rich 
Comfort  is!  She  has  saved  that  fat 
stocking  full  of  money,  to  buy  her 
nefly." 

"  Buy  her  neffy  !  "  repeated  Martin,  un- 
buttoning his  overcoat. 

"Yes,  he's  a  slave,  you  know." 

"No,"  said  the  boy,  "I  don't  know,  Nel- 
ly; I  never  even  heard  of  neffy  before." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  63 

"  Oh,  his  name  isn't  neffy,  Martin.  Oh, 
no,  not  at  all,"  said  the  little  girl,  with 
an  air  of  importance.  "  He  is  called 
John,  and  Comfort  is  going  to  buy  him, 
and  I  am  to  begin  a  pair  of  stockings 
for  him  to-morrow." 

Comfort  held  up  her  bag  half  full. 

"This  yere  is  my  money-box,"  she 
said,  overflowing  with  satisfaction. 

"Box!"  repeated  Nell.  "Why,  it  is 
not  a  lox  at  all,  Comfort.  It's  the  foot 
of  a  worn-out  stocking." 

The  old  woman  turned  upon  her  a 
little  grimly,  "  stockin'  or  no  stockin' 
I  calls  it  my  money-box,  and  that's 
enough.  Box  it  is." 

"That's  funny,"  said  Nelly;  "I  don't 
see  much  good  in  calling  a  stocking  a 
box  as  long  as  it  is  a  stocking." 

"Well,  I  does,"  said  Comfort,  sharply; 


64  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

and  with  some  of  the  old  ill-temper  she 
once  used  to  vent  so  largely  on  Nell, 
she  snatched  up  the  bag,  and  giving  it 
a  toss  upon  a  pantry  shelf,  slammed  the 
door  with  a  mighty  noise. 

For  a  little  while  silence  descended  on 
the  group.  It  was  an  uncomfortable  si- 
lence. No  one  in  the  room  felt  happy 
or  at  ease.  Of  such  power  is  a  single 
ill-natured  expression ! 

Comfort  was  restless,  because  her  con- 
science reproached  her,  while  at  the 
same  time  Nelly  was  experiencing  se- 
cret remorse  for  having  irritated  her  by 
thoughtless  words.  Perhaps  Martin  Wray 
was  more  distressed  than  either  of  his 
companions,  at  what  had  taken  place. 
His  was  naturally  a  peaceable  disposi- 
tion, and  he  could  not  bear  to  witness 
scenes  of  discord.  The  sight  of  his 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  65 

pleasant  face  saddened,  did  not  tend  to 
make  little  Nell  feel  happier.  She 
longed  to  have  him  reprove  her,  or 
exhort  her,  as  he  so  often  did,  to  bet- 
ter behavior ;  but  Martin  sat  in  his  chair 
by  the  fire,  sorrowful  and  mute. 

Nothing  was  heard  but  the  hissing  of 
the  burning  wood  on  the  wide  hearth, 
and  the  whistling  sounds  and  muffled 
roars  of  the  wind  without. 

It  was  too  much  to  bear  this  any 
longer.  Nelly  got  up  with  a  long,  pen- 
itent face,  and  hovered  rather  wistfully 
around  the  chair  where  Comfort  sat, 
still  smoking  her  pipe.  The  old  domes- 
tic had  taken  advantage  of  the  fact  of 
her  eyes  being  half  closed,  to  pretend 
that  she  did  not  see  the  little  figure 
standing  at  her  side,  on  account  of  just 
going  off  into  a  most  delightful  doze. 


66  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

She  even  went  so  far  as  to  get  up  a 
gentle,  extempore  fit  of  snoring,  but 
Nelly  was  not  to  be  deceived. 

"  Comfort,"  she  said,  in  a  mild,  quiet 
voice. 

No  answer,  excepting  three  exceeding- 
ly distinct  snores. 

"Comfort"  was  repeated,  in  a  louder 
tone. 

u  WHAT  ! ! "  growled  the  old  woman, 
opening  her  eyes  so  suddenly  that  the 
child  started  back.  Comfort  began  to 
laugh,  however,  so  Nell  felt  no  fear  of 
having  disturbed  her  in  reality. 

"I  am  sorry  I  said  that  wasn't  your 
money-box,  Comfort.  I  didn't  mean 
to  contradict,  or  such  like.  It  was  all 
along  o'  my  contrary  temper,  and  if 
you'll  forgive  me,  I'll  try  not  to  act  so 
again." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  67 

The  old  colored  woman  appeared  a 
little  confused. 

"'Deed,  honey,"  she  said,  "yer  haven't 
done  nuthin'  wrong ;  it's  all  me.  I  dunno 
what  gits  into  me  sometimes.  Well,  now, 
hand  me  that  ar  plaguey  stocking,  and 
I'll  let  you  and  Martin  count  my  mon- 

ej" 

Nelly  smiled,  looked  delighted  at  be- 
ing restored  to  favor,  and  flew  to  the 
pantry. 

The  bag  was  on  too  high  a  shelf  for 
her  to  reach,  however,  and  she  had  got 
the  poker  and  was  in  the  act  of  violently 
punching  and  hooking  it  down,  as  she 
best  could,  her  eyes  and  cheeks  bright 
with  the  exertion,  when  Martin  —  the 
sadness  quite  gone  from  his  face  —  ad- 
vanced to  help  her.  Comfort  took  the 
bag  from  him,  and  with  a  grand  flour- 


68  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

ish,  emptied  it  on  the  vacant  table. 
The  flourish  was  a  little  too  grand,  how- 
ever, and  much  more  effective  than  Com- 

*    - 

fort  had  intended.  The  shining  "silver 
dollars,  with  which  the  stocking  was 
partially  filled,  fell  helter-skelter  on  the 
table,  and  many  of  them  rolled  jingling 
and  glittering  over  the  floor. 

Nelly  laughed  and  scrambled  after 
them,  Martin  shouted  and  tumbled  down 
on  hands  and  knees  to  help  find  them, 
while  the  owner,  quite  dismayed,  stood 
still  and  did  nothing. 

"  'Deed,  'deed  ! "  she  said  ;  "  how  could 
I  be  so  keerless  ?  But  there's  thirty  of 
'em,  and  thirty  I'U  find." 

Before  the  children  knew  what  she 
was  about,  she  seized  the  broom  and 
began  to  sweep  the  rag-carpet  with 
great  nervous  dashes,  that  had  no  oth- 


'  Comfort  relinquished  the  broom  at  this,  and  began  to  count/'     Page  09. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOLDAYS.  69 

er  effect  than  to  raise  a  tremendous 
dust. 

"Stop!"  cried  Martin;  "don't  sweep, 
please,  Comfort ;  Nelly  and  I  will  find 
them  for  you.  That  dust  just  goes  into 
our  eyes  and  blinds  us.  If  you  are  sure 
there  were  thirty,  it  is  easy  enough  to 
search  till  we  make  up  the  number." 

Comfort  relinquished  the  broom  at 
this,  and  began  to  count;  as  fast  as  the 
children  found  any  of  the  coins  they 
dropped  them  into  her  lap. 

"  Twenty-six,  twenty-seven,"  she  said, 
at  length;  "three  more,  and  we've  got 
all  the  little  shiners  back." 

"  Here's  two,"  cried  Martha,  "  behind 
the  dust-pan." 

"And  here's  the  thirtieth/'  exclaimed 
Nelly,  "sticking  out  from  under  your 
shoe,  Comfort !  How  funny  !  " 


70  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

And  so,  laughing,  the  children  saw 
Comfort's  money-box  bulge  again  to  its 
original  size.  . 

"  That  ar's  only  my  last  five  months' 
wages.  Mrs.  Brooks  paid  me  yesterday," 
said  the  old  woman,  proudly,  as  she  tied 
the  stocking  together  with  a  piece  of 
yellow,  time -stained  tape.  "I've  got 
three  hundred  jes'  like  'em  in  a  bank 
in  the  city ;  and  when  with  a  little  extry 
t'ilin'  and  savin',  I  git  in  all,  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty,  my  nefiy  will  never  be  a 
slave  no  more  !  " 

Here  the  kind  voice  of  Mrs.  Brooks 
was  heard  calling  the  children  into  the 
sitting-room. 

"  Good-night,  Comfort,"  said  Martin ; 
"I  wish  /  had  thirty  dollars;  yet  I  do 
not  envy  you  yours,  one  bit, — no,  not 
one  bit!" 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  71 

"  Yes,"  added  Nell,  rising  to  go,  "  and 
/  don't  envy  either,  but  I  wouldn't  mind 
owning  another  stocking  just  like  that. 
And,  Comfort,  I  am  going  to  ask  mother 
to  let  me  set  all  the  eggs  of  my  white 
bantam  hen,  early  in  the  spring;  and 
I'll  sell  the  chickens  and  give  you  the 
money  to  help  buy  your  nefiy." 


72          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  LET'S    MAKE    FRIENDS  !  " 

THE  beams  of  the  afternoon  sun 
streamed  gayly  through  the  windows  of 
Miss  Harrow's  school-room,  and  fell,  like 
a  crown  of  light,  on  the  head  of  the 
young  teacher,  as  she  sat  at  her  desk 
making  copies  for  her  pupils.  It  was 
writing  afternoon,  and  on  this  particular 
occasion,  that  which  was  considered  a 
high  reward  was  to  be  given  to  the 
most  diligent  child. 

Whoever  showed  the  greatest  interest, 
neatness  and  industry,  was  to  be  allowed  to 
remain  for  a  few  hours  after  the  closing 
of  the  school,  in  order  to  make  a  wreath 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          73- 

of  evergreen  to  decorate  a  certain  pic- 
ture in  Miss  Elinor's  apartment.  The 
Christmas  holidays  were  near,  and  the 
little  school-room  had  already  received, 
at  the  willing  hands  of  the  children,  a 
thorough  dressing  with  laurel,  pine,  and 
hemlock-boughs.  It  had  been  for  a 
week  past  the  great  delight  of  the  pu- 
pils to  weave,  after  school-hours,  festoons 
for  the  whitewashed  walls,  and  garlands 
for  Miss  Milly's  desk. 

Many  were  the  regrets  that  the  work 
was  now  almost  over. 

Miss  Elinor's  gentle  ways  had,  from 
the  first,  made  her  a  great  favorite. 
There  were  never  any  rebellions,  any 
doubtful  conduct,  in  the  few  classes  she 
undertook  to  hear  recite  in  her  sick- 
room. Her  very  infirmity  endeared  her 
to  the  hearts  of  her  scholars. 


74  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

This  wreath  for  an  engraving  that 
hung  at  the  foot  of  her  bed,  was  the 
only  Christmas-green  Elinor  desired  to 
have  placed  in  her  apartment,  and  on 
that  account,  as  well  as  from  devotion 
to  her  personally,  many  pairs  of  little 
hands  were  eager  to  achieve  the  honor 
of  the  task.  Very  patient,  therefore, 
were  their  youthful  owners  with  their 
writing,  this  afternoon,  —  very  exact 
were  they  to  cross  the  t's,  dot  the  i's, 
and  avoid  pens,  as  Melinda  expressed  it, 
"  that  scratched  like  sixty." 

Miss  Milly  had  done  very  wisely  in 
holding  out  this  reward,  for  never  be- 
fore had  such  attention  and  such  care 
been  visible  in  the  class.  Nelly  sat  at 
her  high  desk,  as  busy  and  as  excited 
to  win  as  any  child  there.  Her  copy- 
book lay  before  her,  and  though  she  had 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          f  5 

not  as  yet  reached  beyond  "pot-hooks 
and  trammels/'  she  was  quite  as  likely 
to  come  off  victor  as  those  who  wrote 
with  ease  and  accuracy,  because  it  was 
not  a  question  of  penmanship,  but  of 
neatness  and  industry,  as  I  have  already 
said;  for  the  first  quality,  the  books 
themselves  were  to  speak;  and  Miss 
Milly's  watchful  eyes  were  the  judges 
of  the  latter,  as,  from  time  to  time,  she 
raised  them  from  her  own  writing  and 
scanned  the  little  group. 

Scratch,  scratch,  scratch  went  the  pens, 
and  papers  rustled,  and  fingers  flew  about 
their  work  till  the  hour  being  up,  Miss 
Milly  rang  her  bell  as  a  signal  for  per- 
fect silence. 

"  It  is  time  to  put  away  your  pens, 
children,"  she  said,  in  a  clear  voice;  and 
at  once  they  were  laid  aside. 


76  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Nelly  was  just  placing  her  blotting 
paper  between  the  leaves  of  her  writing- 
book,  when  a  sorrowful  exclamation  near 
her  made  her  turn  her  head.  This  ex- 
clamation came  from  Melinda,  who  sat  a 
few  benches  off  Her  eyes  were  fixed 
with  a  look  of  most  profound  distress 
on  a  large  blot  which  a  drop  of  ink 
from  her  pen  had  just  left  in  the  centre 
of  the  day's  copy.  Her  sleeve  had  ac- 
cidentally swept  over  it  too, — and  there 
it  was,  a  great,  black  disfigurement ! 
And  on  this  afternoon  of  all  others ! 
Melinda  wrote  a  very  pretty  hand.  She 
was  an  ambitious  girl,  and  had  done  her 
very  best,  that  she  might  win  the  prize. 
Nelly  saw  the  tears  rise  in  her  eyes, 
and  her  cheeks  flush  with  the  bitterness 
of  her  disappointment. 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  Lucy  Rook,  a  little 


NELLY'S  FERST  SCHOOL-DATS.  77 

girl,  who  sat  next;  "Oh,  dear!  there's  a 
blot,  Melindy ! " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  answer ;  u  I  wonder  if 
I  could  scratch  it  out,  so  that  the  page 
will  look  neatly  again.  Lucy,  lend  me 
your  knife,  will  you  ?  " 

Mistress  Lucy  looked  straight  at  Me- 
linda,  and  laughed  a  little  cruel,  mock- 
ing laugh.  In  the  rattle  of  papers  and 
temporary  confusion  of  the  room,  she 
thought  herself  unheard  by  the  teacher. 

"  Who  wouldn't  play  tag,  yesterday, 
eh?"  asked  Lucy.  "Who  spoiled  the 
game ;  did  you  hear  anybody  say  ?  " 

"Why,  I  did,  I  s'pose,"  spoke  Melinda 
roughly  ;  "  and  what  of  it  ?  " 

"I  guess  I  want  my  knife,  myself, 
that's  all,"  was  Lucy's  reply.  "I  don't 
think  I  could  conclude  to  lend  it  to- 
day," and  she  laughed  again. 


78  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Nelly  involuntarily  put  her  hand  in 
her  pocket,  where  lay  a  little  penknife 
Nancy  had  given  her,  as  a  keepsake, 
a  few  weeks  before.  The  thought  flashed 
through  her  mind,  "Shall  I,  or  shall  I 
not  ? "  and  the  next  moment  she  reached 
over,  and  the  little  knife  was  glittering 
on  Melinda's  blotted  copy.  She  did  not 
speak;  she  only  blushed,  and  smiled, 
and  nodded  pleasantly,  to  show  her 
good-will.  Melinda  looked  at  her  with 
a  frowning  brow.  Then  a  better  impulse 
seemed  to  prevail;  she  glanced  grateful- 
ly back  at  Nelly,  and  taking  up  the 
penknife  began  to  give  some  doleful 
scratches  over  the  blot. 

Presently,  however,  Miss  Milly's  com- 
mand was  heard  from  the  desk : 

"All  arms  to  be  folded!"  Melinda, 
with  a  sigh,  folded  hers,  and  sat  like  a 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          79 

picture  of  despair.  The  books  were  then 
collected,  and  examined  carefully,  while 
the  scholars  began  to  prepare  to  go 
home.  Nelly  was  quite  ready,  when 
she  was  startled  by  hearing  Miss  Milly 
pronounce  her  name  to  the  school  as 
the  winner  of  the  prize. 

"I  find,"  said  Miss  Harrow,  "that  al- 
most every  child  has  taken  unusual 
pains  to-day,  in  writing ;  and  I  am 
pleased  to  see  it,  I  can  assure  you. 
Where  all  have  been  so  careful,  it  is 
very  difficult  to  find  one  who  stands 
highest;  Nelly  Box,  however,  I  think 
deserves  the  reward.  Never,  before,  has 
she  evinced  such  diligence  and  patience; 
hoping  that  she  will  always  do  as  well 
in  future,  I  give  her  permission  to 
go  up  to  Miss  Elinor's  room  to  begin 
the  wreath,  at  once.  Elinor  will  give 


80          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

you  instructions,  Nelly,  and  perhaps  tell 
you  some  little  story  while  you  are  busy 
with  your  task." 

At  first  Nelly's  face  shone  with  delight- 
ed triumph,  at  the  news  of  her  success. 
But  in  a  little  while  she  began  to  real- 
ize that  many  of  the  pupils  were  sorely 
disappointed  at  this  award  not  falling  on 
themselves,  and  the  thought  dampened 
her  ardor.  She  had  reached  the  door  to 
leave  the  room,  when  Miss  Milly  added: 

"Melinda,  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you, 
too,  have  been  attentive  and  anxious  to 
do  well.  If  it  were  not  for  this  huge 
blot,  I  should  have  given  the  palm  to 
you." 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Melinda,  ea- 
gerly. "  I  was  just  folding  it  up,  when 
it  happened.  I  am  as  sorry  as  can 
be." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  81 

"  Are  you  ?  "  said  Miss  Milly,  kindly. 

"Yes,"  broke  in  Nelly,  with  honest 
warmth;  "and  it  was  an — an  accident,  as 
I  think  they  call  it,  Miss  Milly.  ^he 
girls  who  saw  it,  say  so.  The  ink  just 
dropped  right  down,  ker-splash" 

Melinda  held  down  her  head  and 
looked  conscious. 

u  Well,  then,"  said  the  good  teacher, 
smiling  at  the  "Jeer-splash"  " if  it  was 
an  accident,  I  think  we  will  have  two 
wreath-makers,  instead  of  one.  Melinda 
may  go  up -stairs  with  Nelly,  if  she 
wishes,  and  both  are  to  be  very  quiet 
and  orderly,  for  Miss  Elinor  is  not  quite 
as  well  as  usual,  to-day." 

Melinda  glanced  towards  Nelly,  and  was 
silent.  She  did  not  like  to  go,  under 
such  circumstances  as  these.  She  wished 
the  honor  of  making  the  wreath,  it  is  true, 


82  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

but  she  did  not  desire  that  distinction  to 
be  bestowed  upon  her  as  a  favor.  She  felt 
galled  too,  that  this  very  favor  was  ac- 
corded to  her  through  Nelly  Box's  means, 
—  little  Nelly,  whom,  every  day,  she  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  cuffing  about  as 
though  she  were  an  animal  of  totally  infe- 
rior condition.  She  happened  to  raise  her 
eyes,  however,  and  they  fell  on  the  glad, 
beaming  face  of  this  same  Nelly  Box, 
who  stood  waiting  for  her.  It  was  so 
evident  that  Nelly's  good-will  towards  her 
was  sincere,  it  was  so  plain  that  this  little 
schoolmate  of  hers  desired  to  be  friends 
with  her,  and  to  forget  and  forgive  all 
the  unpleasantness  of  the  past,  that  Me- 
linda  could  not  resist  the  good  impulse 
which  impelled  her  onward.  A  feeling 
of  shame  and  awkwardness  was  all  that 
hindered  her  from  accompanying  Nelly 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  83 

up-stairs  at  once.  She  stood  looking 
very  foolish,  her  glance  on  the  floor, 
and  her  fingers  twitching  at  the  up- 
turned corner  of  her  apron. 

"Come,  Melinda,"  said  Miss  Milly,  in 
a  gentle,  but  brisk  tone ;  "  don't  keep 
Nelly  waiting." 

The  young  girl  could  resist  no  longer. 
She  smiled,  in  spite  of  herself,  a  great, 
ear-to-ear,  bashful,  happy,  half-  ashamed 
smile,  and  followed  Nelly  slowly  up-stairs 
to  Miss  Elinor's  room,  where  they  found 
her  bolstered  up  in  bed,  as  usual,  and 
quite  ready  to  give  them  instructions 
how  to  form  her  wreath.  A  sheet  was 
already  spread  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
and  on  this  was  a  pile  of  evergreens. 

"  What,  two ! "  said  Miss  Elinor,  smil- 
ing, as  they  entered.  "I  am  glad  to 
see  you  both,  although  I  expected  but 


84  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

one.  How  is  your  mother,  Melin- 
da?" 

"Better,  ma'am,"  said  Melinda;  "she  is 
coming  to  see  you  next  week,  if  she  is 
well  enough.  What  shall  we  do  first, 
Miss  Elinor?" 

The  sick  girl  told  the  children  how  to 
begin,  and,  half  sitting  up  in  bed  as  she 
was,  showed  them  how  to  tie  together 
the  fragments  of  evergreen  with  strings, 
so  as  to  form  the  wreath.  At  first,  the 
girls  thought  it  hard  work  enough.  The 
little  sprays  of  hemlock  would  stand  up, 
as  Nelly  termed  it,  "seven  ways  for 
Sunday,"  and  all  they  could  do  did  not 
bring  them  into  shape. 

Miss  Elinor  could  not  help  them  much 
more  than  to  give  directions.  She  lay 
looking  at  them  from  her  bed,  half 
amused,  and  entirely  interested  in  the 
proceedings. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  85 

"  Dear,  dear ! "  said  Melinda,  after  she 
had  endeavored  several  times,  quite  pa- 
tiently for  her,  to  force  a  sprig  to  keep 
its  place;  "dear  me,  I  don't  think  we 
can  ever  make  this  'ere  wreath  look  like 
anything  but  father's  stump  fences.  Just 
see  how  that  hemlock  sticks  out ! " 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Elinor,  "I  like  to 
see  stump  fences,  very  much  indeed, 
Melinda.  I  think  they  are  beautiful. 
The  great  roots  look  like  the  hands  of 
giants,  with  the  fingers  stretched  out  to 
grasp  something.  So  you  see,  I  don't 
mind  if  you  make  my  wreath  look  like 
them." 

"Father  says  stump  fences  are  the 
very  best  kind,"  remarked  Melinda, 
knowingly. 

"I  guess  not  the  very  lest,  Melindy," 
Nell  ventured  to  say. 


86  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DATS. 

"Yes,  they  are,"  persisted  Melinda, 
with  a  toss  of  her  head;  "father  says 
they  last  forever,  —  and  he  knows,  for  he 
has  tried  'em!" 

The  young  teacher  smiled,  and  turned 
away  her  head. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  church  dressed 
with  evergreens,  Miss  Elinor  ? "  asked 
one  of  the  children. 

"Often,"  said  the  sick  girl;  "not  here, 
in  the  village,  but  in  the  city.  I  have 
not  been  able  to  attend  church  much 
since  we  have  been  here.  They  en- 
twine garlands  around  the  high  pillars, 
and  put  wreaths  of  laurel  over  the 
arched  windows.  The  reading-desk  and 
pulpit  have  their  share  too,  and  above 
the  altar  is  placed  a  beautiful  cross. 
Sometimes  the  font  is  filled  with  delicate 
white  flowers,  that  are  renewed  each 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  87 

Sabbath  as  long  as  the  evergreens  are 
permitted  to  remain. 

"I  wish  I  could  see  a  church  looking 
like  that,"  remarked  Nelly,  stopping  in 
her  work,  and  looking  meditatively  about 
her. 

"Miss  Elinor,"  said  Melinda,  "what 
do  they  mean  when  they  say  '  as  poor 
as  a  church-mouse  ? '  Why  are  church- 
mice  poorer  than  house-mice  ? " 

"  Because,"  was  the  reply,  "  in  churches 
there  are  no  nice  pantries,  filled  with 
bread  and  meat,  for  the  little  plagues  to 
feed  upon.  No  stray  crumbs  lie  on  the 
floor, — no  pans  of  milk  are  to  be  found 
at  which  to  sip.  So,  you  see,  church- 
mice  have  a  right  to  be  considered 
poor." 

"Well,"  said  Melinda,  "how  funny!  I 
never  thought  of  that  before." 


88  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  Once,"  continued  her  teacher,  *  I  saw 
an  odd  scene  with  a  church-mouse.  I'll 
tell  you  about  it.  I  was  visiting  in  the 
country,  a  great  many  miles  from  here ; 
such  a  kind  of  country  as  you  can  have 
but  a  faint  idea  of,  unless  you  should 
see  it  yourself.  It  was  out  West.  The 
houses  there  are  not  like  those  you  have 
always  been  accustomed  to  see,  but  are 
built  of  the  trunks  of  trees.  They  are 
called  log  cabins.  The  gaps,  or  holes, 
between  these  logs  are  filled  with  mud 
and  moss,  which  keep  out  the  rain  in 
summer,  and  the  wind  and  snow  in  win- 
ter." 

"What  do  they  do  for  windows?" 
asked  Nell. 

"Some  of  them  have  none, — others 
make  an  opening  in  the  logs ;  a  small 
shutter,  hinged  with  stout  leather,  is  its 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  89 

only  protection  in  time  of  storms.  Glass 
is  too  expensive  to  be  used,  for  the  peo- 
ple are  very  poor.  Well,  I  was  visiting 
once  a  family  who  lived  in  one  of 
these  log  huts.  It  was  somewhat  better 
than  its  neighbors,  certainly,  and  much 
larger,  but  it  was  not  half  as  comforta- 
ble as  the  little  house  we  are  in.  It 
was  in  October,  and  I  remember  as  I 
lay  awake  in  bed,  at  night,  I  felt  the 
autumn  wind  whistle  over  me.  It 
makes  my  nose  cold  to  think  of  it," 
laughed  Elinor.  "  When  Sunday  came, 
I  was  surprised  to  find  that,  although 
the  church  was  five  miles  distant,  no 
one  thought  of  staying  at  home. 

'  What ! '  said  my  uncle,  '  do  you 
think,  Elinor,  we  are  short-walk  Chris- 
tians ?  No  indeed,  —  five  miles  through 
the  woods  is  nothing  to  us  when  a 


90          NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DATS. 

good,  sound  sermon,  and  a  couple  of 
beautiful  hymns  are  at  the  end  of 
it!'" 

"  It  was  your  uncle,  then,  you  were 
visiting  ?  "  questioned  Melinda. 

"  Yes ;  he  had  moved  out  West  some 
years  before,  bought  a  farm,  and  built 
himself  a  log  cabin.  He  lives  there 
now,  and  is  fast  making  a  fortune." 

"Is  he?"  said  Nell.  "Did  you  go  to 
the  church,  Miss  Elinor,  in  the  woods  ?  " 

"Yes;  no  one  stayed  at  home.  We 
had  the  dinner -table  set  before  we 
started,  which  was  early,  on  account  of 
the  distance.  I  think  it  was  about  half 
past  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  (for 
we  did  not  want  to  hurry),  when  uncle 
shut  the  cabin  door,  and  saw  that  ev- 
erything was  right." 

"Didn't  you  lock  it?"  asked  Melinda. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.          91 

"Lock  what?" 

"The  door." 

"No.  Not  a  man,  woman,  or  child 
thinks  of  locking  doors,  out  in  that  wild 
country.  Thieves  don't  seem  to  be 
found  there,  and  everybody  trusts  his 
neighbor.  If  a  tramper  comes  along,  he 
is  welcome  to  go  in  and  help  himself 
to  whatever  he  wants.  It  is  not  an  un- 
usual thing  on  reaching  home,  after 
an  absence  of  an  hour  or  so,  to  find  a 
poor,  tired  traveller,  asleep  in  his  chair, 
before  the  fire.  Besides,"  said  Miss 
Elinor,  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eyes, 
"  there  is  another  excellent  reason  why 
the  farmers  out  there  never  think  of 
locking  their  doors." 

"Oh,  I  know!"  cried  Melinda;  "I 
know!" 

"Well,  why  is  it?" 


92  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  They  have  no  locks  ! "  And  the  two 
children  began  to  laugh  as  if  they  had 
never  heard  anything  so  funny  in  all 
their  lives. 

«I  like  that,"  said  Nell;  "I  want  to 
live  in  just  such  an  honest  country,  and 
where  they  are  good  to  poor  travellers, 
too.  That's  the  splendid  part.  I  feel  as 
if  I  wanted  to  settle  there,  this  very 
minute.  Well,  Miss  Elinor,  don't  forget 
about  going  to  church." 

«  We  got  off  the  track  so,  I  had  near- 
ly forgotten  what  my  story  is  about," 
said  Miss  Elinor.  "We  started  very  ear- 
ly to  go  to  church.  Uncle  had  no  wag- 
on, so  driving  was  out  of  the  question; 
but  he  had  a  beautiful  mare  called  'Lady 
Lightfoot,'  and  an  old  side-saddle,  which 
my  aunt  had  owned  ever  since  she  was 
a  girl.  It  was  settled  that  my  aunt  and 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  93 

I  were  to  take  turns  riding  on  Lady 
Lightfoot,  so  that  neither  should  get  too 
fatigued.  Uncle  and  cousin  Kobert  were 
to  walk,  and  Lightfoot's  pretty  little 
long-legged  colt  ambled  in  the  rear. 
My  aunt  took  the  first  ride,  and  I  was 
talking  quietly  to  uncle  and  Robert, 
when  I  saw,  bounding  along  a  rail  fence 
at  the  side  of  the  road,  the  old  fat  cat, 
Wildfire.  Her  name  just  suited  her,  for 
she  was  one  of  the  most  restless,  proud, 
affectionate,  daring  cats  I  had  ever  seen. 

"( Why!'  I  exclaimed;  'see  Wildfire  on 
the  fence!  she  will  get  lost, — we  must 
send  her  home.' 

'"Lost,  eh?'  said  Cousin  Robert;  'I 
reckon  not.  If  any  one  can  lose  Wild- 
fire, I'll  give  him  a  treat  in  the  straw- 
berry patch  next  summer,  and  no  mis- 
take.' 


94  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

'"But  what  shall  we  do?'  I  asked; 
'we  don't  want  her  to  go  to  church 
with  us.  Make  her  go  home,  Robert, 
do.' 

"'Not  a  bit  of  it/  said  Robert,  laugh- 
ing ;  '  did  you  never  see  a  cat  go  to 
meeting  before  ?  Wildfire  has  attended 
regularly,  every  summer,  for  the  last 
three  years.  She  always  follows  us.  The 
minister  would  not  know  how  to  preach 
without  her.' 

"'  But,'  said  I,  '  how  it   must  look  !    a 

»• 

cat  in  church !  A  dog  would  not  be 
so  bad.  But  a  cat !  Go  home,  Wildfire ! ' 
and  I  took  off  my  red  shawl  and  shook 
it  at  her,  and  stamped  my  foot. 

"Robert  laughed  again,  and  told  me  it 
was  no  use ;  that  they  had  often  tried 
to  send  her  back,  and  sometimes  had 
fastened  her  up,  but  that  she  almost  al- 


NELLY'S  FIKST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  95 

ways  broke  loose,  and  would  come 
bounding  after  them,  kicking  her  heels 
in  the  air,  as  though  to  show  her  utter 
defiance  of  any  will  but  her  own.  When 
I  shook  my  shawl  at  her,  she  just  rose 
quietly  up  on  her  hind  legs,  and  while 
her  green  eyes  darted  flames  of  anger, 
she  ruffled  her  fur  as  cats  do  when  at- 
tacked by  dogs,  indicating  as  plainly  as 
possible  that  go  she  would;  and  go,  in- 
deed, she  did.  Kobert  saw  I  was  morti- 
fied at  the  thought  of  walking  to  meet- 
ing in  company  with  a  cat,  and  he  told 
me  I  needn't  be  ashamed,  because  the 
churches  out  there  were  vastly  different 
from  those  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
attending.  '  Women,'  said  he,  ( who 
can't  afford  them,  come  without  hats, 
and  men,  on  hot  days,  walk  up  to  their 
seats  in  their  shirt -sleeves,  with  their 


96  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

house-dogs  tagging  after  them.  I  count- 
ed ten  dogs  in  meeting  once.  The  ani- 
mals seem  to  understand  the  necessity 
for  good  behavior,  for  they  are  as  quiet 
as  their  masters ;  perhaps  more  so,  some- 
times. They  lie  down  under  the  seats 
of  their  friends,  and  go  to  sleep,  only 
opening  their  eyes  and  mouths  now 
and  then  to  snap  at  some  flies,  buzzing 
around  their  noses.  Wildfire  does  the 
same.  Our  bench  is  near  the  door,  and 
we  could  easily  put  her  out  if  she  did 
not  behave  as  becomes  a  good,  well- 
reared  cat.  If  people  didn't  know  that 
she  followed  us  each  Sunday,  they 
would  never  find  it  out  from  her  be- 
havior in  meeting-time.' 

"Seeing  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and 
understanding  there  was  no  fear  of  mor- 
tification, I  dismissed  the  thought  of 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.  97 

Wildfire  from  my  mind.  Shortly  after- 
wards, my  aunt  dismounted  to  give  me 
my  turn.  Cousin  Robert  helped  me  on, 
handed  me  the  lines,  and  gently  touch- 
ing Lady  Lightfoot  with  my  twig-whip, 
I  began  to  trot  a  little  away  from  the 
party.  The  road  was  magnificent.  None, 
my  dear  children,  in  our  village  can 
compare  with  it.  The  earth  was  smooth 
and  hard,  and  but  very  little  broken  by 
wheels.  Something  in  the  character  of  the 
soil  kept  it  generally  in  this  condition. 
We  had  just  entered  the  woods.  Overhead 
the  stately  branches  of  old  trees  met  and 
laced  themselves  together.  It  was  like 
one  long  arbor.  Scarcely  any  sunshine 
came  through  on  the  road,  and  when  it 
did,  the  little  wavy  streaks  looked  like 
threads  of  gold.  The  morning  was  mild 
and  cool,  almost  too  cool  for  the  few 


98  NELLY'S  FIEST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

autumn  birds  that  twittered  their  cheer- 
ful songs  far  and  near.  I  was  enjoying 
myself  very  much,  when,  suddenly,  I 
heard  a  snorting  noise  just  beside  me. 
I  could  not  imagine  what  it  was.  I 
looked  down,  and  there  —  what  do  you 
think  I  saw?" 

"  Wildfire  ! "  cried  the  two  children. 

"  Yes,  it  was  Wildfire,  on  the  full  trot, 
snorting  at  me  her  delight  in  the  race. 
I  slackened  my  pace,  and  the  cat  and  I 
walked  peaceably  all  the  rest  of  the 
way  to  the  meeting-house. 

"When  we  arrived  there,  I  was  as 
much  surprised  as  amused  at  the  scene 
which  presented  itself.  The  church  was 
a  nice,  neatly -pain  ted  building,  in  the 
midst  of  a  small  clearing." 

"Clearing?"  said  Nell. 

"A  clearing  is  a  piece  of  ground  from 


NELLYS    FIKST    SCHOOL-DAYS.  99 

whjch  the  trees  have  been  removed. 
One  or  two  young  oaks,  however,  were 
left  in  this  instance,  to  serve  as  hitching 
posts,  if  any  should  be  required,  which 
was  very  seldom  the  case. 

"Many  of  the  farmers  of  the  vicinity 
had  arrived  when  we  got  there.  They 
had  unharnessed  their  animals  and  left 
them  to  graze  around  the  meeting-house, 
a  young  colt  accompanying  almost  every 
turn-out.  At  the  first  glance  I  thought 
the  spot  was  full  of  colts,  such  a  frisk- 
ing and  whisking  was  going  on  around 
the  entrance.  One  impertinent  little 
thing  even  went  so  far  as  to  poke  its 
head  in  the  door-way  and  take  a  survey 
of  the  congregation. 

"Some  of  the  families  who  attended 
there,  came  from  ten  to  fifteen  miles, — 
for  the  country  was  by  no  means  thickly 


100         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

settled.  A  large  dinner-basket,  nioely 
packed  under  the  wagon-seat,  showed 
which  these  families  were. 

All  the  people  were  more  or  less 
roughly  dressed;  none  were  attired  in  a 
way  that  looked  like  absolute  poverty. 

"Cousin  Robert  aided  me  to  dismount, 
left  Lady  Lightfoot  and  her  colt  free  to 
graze  with  the  other  animals,  and  with 
aunt  and  uncle  we  went  in  the  church. 
The  walls  were  plaster,  with  no  lime 
or  wood-work  to  improve  their  appear- 
ance. Behind  a  pine  desk  at  one  end 
of  the  room  sat  the  minister.  A  bunch 
of  white  pond-lilies,  which  some  one  had 
just  given  him,  rested  beside  the  Bible 
lying  before  him." 

"  And  Wildfire, — where  was  Wildfire?" 
asked  Nelly,  with  great  eagerness. 

"She   followed    us  in,  very  demurely, 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         101 

aild  the  moment  that  her  favorite,  Rob- 
ert, sat  down,  she  curled  herself  in  a 

round,  soft  ball  at  his  feet,  and  went  to 

«. 

sleep.  I  was  soon  so  interested  in  the 
sermon  that  I  forgot  all  about  her.  The 
minister's  text  seemed  to  have  been  sug- 
gested by  his  flowers.  It  was  '  Consider 
the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow; 
they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin;  and 
yet,  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon 
in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one 
of  these.  Wherefore,  if  God  so  clothe 
the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day  is, 
and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven, 
shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  0 
ye  of  little  faith?'  The  sermon  was 
not  well  delivered,  because  of  the  lack 
of  knowledge  in  the  preacher,  but  it  was 
pure  and  sound,  and  full  of  a  true,  tender, 
and  loving  regard  for  the  welfare  of  that 


102         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

people  in  the  wilderness.  The  heartiness 
with  which  all  present  joined  in  the 
closing  hymn,  proved  that  the  effect  of 
the  discourse  was  a  good  one  on  the 
congregation.  Just  as  the  last  note  died 
away,  my  attention  was  suddenly  at- 
tracted to  a  little  moving  object  near 
the  door.  I  looked  twice  before  I  could 
realize  that  it  was  a  mouse.  It  peered 
about  with  its  pretty,  bright  eyes,  as  if 
it  were  too  frightened  and  bewildered  to 
know  what  to  do  next.  It  was  a  little 
thing,  and  must  have  strayed  unknow- 
ingly away,  from  its  companions. 

"  From  a  slow,  stealthy  sound,  that 
came  all  at  once  from  Cousin  Robert's 
feet,  I  knew  that  Wildfire  had  seen  it 
too,  and  was  preparing  an  attack.  The 
minister  was  pronouncing  the  final  bene- 
diction, however,  and  I  did  not  dare  to 


NELLY'S  FIEST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         103 

look  around,  for  fear  of  attracting  at- 
tention. Scarcely  was  the  closing  word 
uttered,  when  there  was  a  sudden  spring 
from  the  cat,  and  a  shrill  squeak  on 
mousey's  part.  Proudly  lashing  her  tail, 
like  a  panther,  Wildfire  laid  her  victim, 
in  an  instant,  dead  at  her  young  mas- 
ter's feet,  (we  sat  very  near  the  door, 
I  believe  I  told  you,)  gazing  in  his  face 
with  such  an  air  of  triumph,  and  such 
an  anxious  request  for  praise  in  her 
glittering  eyes,  that  cousin  Eobert,  very 
thoughtlessly,  as  it  seemed  to  me, 
stooped  and  patted  her  head." 

"Did  she  eat  it?"  asked  Melin- 
da. 

K  No,"  replied  the  sick  girl ;  K  she  left 
it  lying  there,  on  the  floor,  and  fol- 
lowed us  unconcernedly  out,  as  if  there 
were  not  such  a  thing  as  a  mouse  in 


104         NELLY'S  FIKST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

the  world.  She  had  no  desire  to  be 
left  behind." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Melinda,  "  as  it  was  a 
church-mouse,  she  thought  it  too  poor 
to  eat.  I  wish  I  had  such  a  cat  as 
Wildfire,  Miss  Elinor." 

"And  so  do  I,"  cried  Nelly.  "I'll  teach 
my  cat,  Nancy,  to  be  knowing,  just  like 
her.  Look  at  the  wreath,  Miss  Elinor! 
Hasn't  it  grown  handsome  while  you 
were  telling  about  Wildfire?  It  do'n't 
seem  a  bit  like  a  stump  fence  now,  does 
it?" 

It  was,  indeed,  very  beautiful.  Miss 
Elinor  raised  herself  on  her  elbow  and 
said  so,  as  she  looked  at  it.  All  that  it 
wanted  now,  she  told  them,  was  a  few 
scissors  clips  on  the  ends  of  the  longest 
sprays,  to  make  them  even  with  the 
others. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         105 

Melinda  leaned  it  against  the  wall, 
and  clipped  away  with  great  care  and 
precision.  Nelly  stood  gazing  at  it  lov- 
ingly and  admiringly. 

Before  the  children  were  quite  ready 
to  go  home,  Miss  Milly  came  in  and 
hung  the  precious  wreath  on  a  couple 
of  nails  which  she  drove  for  that  pur- 
pose, over  the  picture,  for  which  it  was 
intended.  It  represented  a  little  bare- 
footed gypsy-girl  dancing  a  wild,  fantas- 
tic dance,  with  her  brown  arms  flung 
gracefully  out,  and  mischief  and  innocent 
fun  gleaming  in  her  black  eyes. 

u  Of  all  the  engravings  I  have  ever 
seen,"  said  Miss  Elinor,  "  this  one  is  the 
best  calculated  for  an  evergreen  frame. 
Thank  you,  dears,  for  making  it.  I  hope 
each  of  you  will  pass  a  merry  Christmas 
and  a  happy  New  Year." 


106         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

As  the  two  children  went  down  the 
stairs  together,  Nelly  said, 

"Isn't  she  good,  Melindy?" 

Melinda  was  not  accustomed  to  behave 
herself  for  so  great  a  length  of  time ;  her 
stock  of  good  conduct  was  now  pretty 
nearly  exhausted,  so  she  answered  rather 
sharply, 

"  Of  course  she  is.  I  know  that  as 
well  as  you,  without  bein'  told." 

Nelly  felt  something  choking  her  in 
her  throat. 

" /  will  not"  she  said  firmly  to  herself, 
"I  will  not  answer  back.  I'll  do  as  Mar- 
tin says,  and  make  a  friend  of  Melindy, 
if  I  can.  She  isn't  so  very  bad,  after 
all.  Why,  I  do  believe  I  rather  like  her." 

They  gathered  their  books  together  in 
the  school-room.  Melinda  opened  the 
door  first,  to  go. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         107 

"  Well,  good-bye/'  she  said,  gruffly,  look- 
ing back  at  Nell. 

" Good-bye,"  replied  Nelly;  and  then  she 
added,  bravely,  "  Oh,  Melindy,  we  needn't 
quarrel  any  more,  need  we  ?  /  don't 
wish  to,  do  you  ?  Let  us  be  friends ; 
come,  shake  hands." 

Melinda  turned  very  red,  indeed. 

u  I  am  not  going  to  be  forced  to  make 
friends  with  any  one,"  she  said,  in  a  most 
forbidding  voice. 

She  gave  the  school-door  a  terrific 
bang  as  she  spoke,  and  darted  off  home- 
ward. 

But  in  that  last  rough  action  the  fi- 
nal trace  of  the  ill-will  she  bore  Nelly 
disappeared  forever. 

The  next  morning,  as  the  family  were 
sitting  at  breakfast,  there  came  a  knock 
at  the  door.  Comfort,  hastily  setting 


108         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

her  dress  to  rights,  went  to  answer  it. 
There  stood  Melinda,  her  school-books  in 
one  hand,  and  in  the  other,  two  of  the 
biggest  and  roundest  and  reddest  apples 
she  had  been  able  to  find  in  all  her  fa- 
ther's bins. 

"Give  them  to  Nelly,  if  you  please," 
she  said. 

"  And  I  declar',"  added  Comfort,  when 
she  came  in  and  told  the  family,  "  the 
minit  she  spoke  that  ar'  she  ran  off 
frightened  like,  and  in  a  mos'  drefful 
hurry." 

From  that  day  Melinda  and  Nelly 
were  friends. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         109 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHICKENS    AND    "POETRY." 

SPRING  came  again,  and  deepened  slowly 
towards  the  summer.  Leaves  budded  on 
the  trees,  herbs  sprouted  from  the  warm 
earth,  and  birds  sang  in  all  the  hedges. 

« I  am  so  glad!"  said  Nelly;  "for  I 
love  the  spring  sunshine,  and  all  the 
pleasant  things  that  come  with  it." 

When  the  weather  grew  mild,  Nelly 
was  as  good  as  her  word  about  raising 
chickens  for  the  benefit  of  Comfort's 
nephew,  the  little  slave.  The  eggs  of 
the  favorite  hen  were  carefully  put 
aside  to  accumulate,  and  as  soon  as  she 
had  done  laying,  and  went  about  the 


HO         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

barnyard  clucking,  with  her  feathers  ruf- 
fled and  her  wings  drooping,  Nelly  knew, 
with  joy,  that  it  was  time  to  set  her.  So 
she  filled  the  same  nest  in  which  the  eggs 
had  been  laid,  with  clean,  fresh  straw, 
and  placed  them  in  it,  ready  for  the 
bantam  when  Martin  could  catch  her  to 
put  her  on.  They  found  that  the  hen 
needed  no  coaxing,  but  settled  herself 
at  once  in  the  well-filled  nest,  giving  at 
the  same  time  an  occasional  cluck  of 
high  satisfaction.  In  three  weeks  from 
that  time  she  came  off  with  eleven 
chicks, —  all  safe  and  well.  When  she 
was  put  in  her  coop,  under  the  big  ap- 
ple-tree by  the  fence,  Nelly  fed  her  with 
moistened  Indian  meal,  every  day.  She 
thought  it  a  pretty  sight,  when  biddy 
minced  up  the  food  for  her  babies,  and 
taught  them  how  to  drink  out  of  the 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.        Ill 

flower-pot  saucer  of  water  that  stood 
within  her  reach. 

Nelly  seemed  never  to  get  tired  of 
looking  at  her  little  snow-white  pets. 
She  felt  that  they  were  her  own,  and 
therefore  she  took  a  double  interest  in 
them. 

When  she  was  home  from  school,  and 
lessons  were  studied  for  the  next  morn- 
ing, she  would  go  out  to  the  apple-tree, 
and  sit  on  the  clean  grass  an  hour 
or  two,  to  watch  every  movement 
of  the  brood,  and  the  solicitude  of  the 
caged  mother  when  her  offspring  wan- 
dered too  far  away.  One  day  in  par- 
ticular, as  she  sat  there,  the  child's 
thoughts  were  busy  with  the  future ; 
her  imagination  pictured  the  time  when 
full-grown,  and  more  beautiful  than  any 
others,  as  she  thought  they  were  sure 


112         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

to  become,  her  eleven  chickens  were  to 
be  sent  to  market. 

"  I  hope,"  she  said  half  aloud  ;  "  I  hope 
they  will  bring  a  good  price,  for  Com- 
fort's sake;  I  should  not  like  to  offer 
her  anything  less  than  five  dollars. 
That  is  very  little,  I  think,  compared  to 
all  the  trouble  I  have  had  night  and 
morning  to  feed  and  take  care  of  them." 

She  stopped  a  moment,  and  heaved  a 
deep  sigh,  as  she  saw  the  little  yellow 
dots  flit  back  and  forth  through  the  long 
grass,  some  of  them  running  now  and 
then  to  nestle  lovingly  under  the  wings 
of  the  mother. 

"Oh  dear!"  she  went  on;  "I  do  be- 
lieve I  am  getting  to  love  my  hen  and 
chickens  too  much  to  part  with  them ; 
every  day  I  think  more  and  more  of 
them,  and  all  the  while  they  grow  pret- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         113 

tier  and  sweeter  and  tamer.  I  wish  I 
could  keep  them  and  have  the  money 
too !  Dear  little  chickies !  Oh,  Com- 
fort, Comfort!" 

She  pronounced  the  last  two  words  so 
ruefully,  that  her  mother,  who  was  pass- 
ing along  the  garden-path,  near  the  ap- 
ple-tree, called  out, — 

"Well,  Nelly  dear,  what  is  the  matter 
with  your  precious  Comfort,  eh?  Has 
she  met  any  great  misfortune  ?  " 

u  No,  ma'am,"  said  Nelly ;  "  I  was  only 
talking  to  myself  about  how  hard  it 
would  be  to  sell  the  little  chickens,  even 
for  dear  Comfort's  sake,  when  I  love 
them  so." 

Mrs.  Brooks  drew  near. 

"Well,  my  child,  that  is  a  dilemma  I 
have  not  thought  of  before.  Perhaps, 
who  knows,  something  will  turn  up  to 


114         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

keep  your  darlings  nearer  home.  When 
autumn  comes,  if  I  feel  desperately  in 
want  of  bantams,  I  may  purchase  your 
brood  myself,  —  but  I  will  not  promise 
about  it.  In  the  meantime,  don't  get  to 
loving  them  too  much;  and  remember, 
that  if  you  told  Comfort  you  would  give 
her  the  money,  you  must  keep  your 
word." 

"  Yes,"  said  Nell,  with  another  sigh ; 
K  there  is  just  my  trouble ;  I  want  to  be 
honorable  to  Comfort,  and  kind  to  my- 
self too." 

Mrs.  Brooks  passed  on.  She  went  in- 
to a  little  vegetable  garden  beyond, 
found  what  she  wanted,  and  came  back. 

She  paused  again,  and  with  the  little 
girl,  looked  at  the  chickens. 

"  Nelly,"  she  said,  "  it  has  just  struck 
me  that  you  have  been  a  great  deal  in 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         115 

the  kitchen  with  Comfort,  lately,  of  even- 
ings. Now,  though  I  respect  and  love 
Comfort  for  many  things,  1  want  you 
to  stay  more  with  your  father,  and  Mar- 
tin, and  myself,  in  the  sitting-room." 

"What?"  Nelly  cried,  in  innocent  won- 
der; "isn't  Comfort  good  any  longer?" 

Mrs.  Brooks  smiled. 

"  Yes,  dear,  Comfort's  as  good  as  ever. 
She  tries  to  do  her  duty,  and  is  a  faith- 
ful old  creature.  She  has  many  excel- 
lent qualities,  but  she  is  not  educated 
nor  refined,  as  I  hope  one  day  you  will 

j 

be.  You  are  too  young  to  be  exposed 
to  her  influence  constantly,  proper  as  it 
may  be  in  most  respects.  I  want  you 
to  fill  a  different  rank  in  life  from  Com- 
fort's, Nelly." 

Tears  were  in  Nelly's  eyes  as  she 
answered  gravely, 


116         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Comfort  is  a  servant,  and  you  are 
my  little  daughter.  I  want  you  to  be 
diligent,  and  cultivate  a  love  of  books. 
If  you  grow  up  in  ignorance,  you  can 
never  be  esteemed  a  lady,  even  if  you 
were  as  rich-  as  an  empress.  I  will  give 
you  the  credit  to  say  that  you  have  im- 
proved very  much  since  you  have  been 
with  me,  both  in  your  conduct  and  in 
the  language  you  use." 

"  Comfort  told  me  I  mustn't  say  'br'il- 
ing  fish,'  as  she  did,  because  you  did 
not !  That  was  kind  of  her,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Brooks  felt  her  eyes  moisten  at 
this  unexpected  remark,  more,  perhaps, 
at  the  tone  than  at  the  words  them- 
selves. She  saw  that  Nelly  was  deeply 
attached  to  Comfort,  and  she  felt  almost 
that  she  was  wrong  in  seeking  to  with- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         117 

draw  the  child  from  the  grotesque  at- 
traction  she  had  lately  seemed  to  feel  for 
her  society.  But  duty  was  duty,  and 
she  was  firm. 

She  stooped  and  imprinted  a  light 
kiss  on  Nelly's  cheek. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  u  Comfort  is  very 
kind  to  you.  But  I  do  not  wish  you  to 
spend  more  time  with  her  when  you 
are  out  of  school  than  you  do  with  the 
rest  of  the  family.  Remember  not  to 
hurt  her  feelings  by  repeating  to  her 
this  conversation." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Nelly ;  and  then 
she  added,  "  Comfort  was  going  to  show 
me  how  to  write  poetry,  to-night,  when 
she  got  through  with  her  work.  Couldn't 
I  go  in  the  kitchen  for  this  one  even- 
ing?" 

"  Comfort  —  teach  —  poetry  ?  "    echoed 


118         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Mrs.  Brooks,  with  some  dismay  and 
amusement. 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"Well, — yes, — you  may  stay  in  the 
kitchen,  if  you  like,  for  this  once.  Cer- 
tainly, I  have  no  objection  to  your 
learning  to  write  poetry,"  and  she  walk- 
ed away,  laughing  quietly. 

Surely  enough,  when  night  fell,  and 
Comfort,  radiant  in  a  showy,  new,  red 
cotton  turban,  sat  down  to  her  knitting, 
— her  day's  work  over,  everything  in  its 
place,  and  the  kitchen-floor  white  with 
extreme  cleanliness, — Nell  came  skipping 
into  the  room,  pencil  and  paper  in 
hand. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  as  she  arranged 
her  writing  materials  on  the  table,  and 
drew  the  solitary  tallow  candle  towards 
her;  "you  see,  Comfort,  school  breaks 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         119 

up  next  week,  and  the  spring  vacation 
begins.  It  lasts  a  month,  only  think  of 
it !  Will  not  I  have  good  times,  eh  ? 
Johnny  Bixby, — you  know  Johnny  Bix- 
by,  Comfort  ?  well,  he  goes  to  his  home 
in  the  city  as  soon  as  vacation  com- 
mences, and  -as  we  may  not  see  him 
again,  he  wants  each  of  the  little  girls 
to  write  him  some  poetry  so  that  he 
can  remember  us  by  it ;  and  that's  the 
way  I  come  to  want  to  learn  how." 

"  Oh,"  said  Comfort,  "  I  understand 
now.  Johnny  boards  with  those  ar  Har- 
rowses,  eh  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Nell;  "and  he's  such  a 
very  quiet  boy,  you've  no  idea,  Com- 
fort." 

"  He's  the  fust  quid  boy  ever  I  heerd 
on,  then,"  said  Comfort.  "Weel,  what 
do  you  want  to  say  to  Johnny  in  your 


120         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

poetry?  That's  the  first  and  important 
p'int ;  don't  begin  to  write  till  you  finds 
what  you  are  a  goin'  to  say." 

"  Oh,  I  want  to  tell  him  good-bye,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  Comfort,  and  how 
I  hope  we  will  meet  again.  I've  got 
the  .first  line  all  written;  that's  some 
help  isn't  it?  -Melindy's  and  my  first 
lines  are  just  alike,  'cause  we  made  it 
up  between  us." 

"How  does  it  go?"  asked  Comfort, 
puffing  at  her  pipe. 

"This  way,"  said  Nelly,  taking  up  her 
paper  and  reading : 

"  Our  days  of  youth  will  soon  be  o'er." 

"Well,"  said  Comfort,  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  "I  think  that's  very  good. 
Now  you  must  find  something  to  rhyme 
with  that  ar  word  e  o'er.' " 

Nelly  bent  over  her  papers,  and  seemed 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         121 

to  be  considering  very  hard  indeed.  Once 
she  put  forth  her  hand  as  if  she  were  go- 
ing to  write,  but  drew  it  back  again. 
Evidently  she  found  writing  poetry  very 
difficult  work.  Comfort  was  looking  at 
her,  too,  and  that  made  her  nervous,  and 
even  the  solemn  stare  of  the  cat,  Nancy, 
from  the  hearth,  where  she  sat  purring, 
added  to  her  embarrassment. 

"  Oh,  Comfort,"  she  said,  at  last,  with 
a  deep  sigh ;  "  I  can't !  I  wonder  if 
Johnny  Bixby  would  take  as  much 
trouble  as  this  for  me.  Do  tell  me 
what  rhymes  with  '  o'er,'  Comfort ! " 

"'O'er,'  'o'er,'"  repeated  Comfort,  slow- 
ly; "why,  tore,  gnaw,  boar,  roar,  and  such 
like.  Roar  is  very  good." 

"But  I  don't  want  'roar'  in  poetry, 
Comfort,"  said  Nelly,  considerably  ruf- 
fled. "  I  don't  see  how  you  can  bring 


122         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

'  roar '    in.     I   wonder   if  '  more '    would 
not  do." 

She  took  up  her  pencil,  and  in  a  IhV 
tie  while,  with  beaming  eyes,  read  to 
her  listener  these  lines : 

"  Our  days  of  youth  will  soon  be  o'er, 
In  Harrows'  school  we'll  meet  no  more." 

"That's  pretty  fair,  isn't  it,  Comfort?" 

"  'Pears  like,"  was  the  answer  that 
came  from  a  cloud  of  smoke  on  the  oth- 
er side  of  the  room.  "I'm  sorry  the 
'roar'  couldn't  come  in,  though.  Don't 
disrememlber  to  say  something  nice 
about  his  writin'  to  tell  yer  if  he  gits 
safe  home,  and  so,  and  so." 

"No,"  said  Nell;  "I'll  not"— "forget" 
she  meant  to  have  added,  but  just  then 
came  a  heavy  knock  on  the  kitchen- 
door  that  made  both  of  them  start. 

Comfort  opened  it,  and  there   stood  a 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         123 

boy,  nearly  a  man,  in  the  dress  of  a 
sailor.  His  hair  was  long  and  shaggy, 
his  face  was  brown,  and  over  his  shoul- 
der swung  a  small  bundle  on  a  stick. 

He  was  not,  however,  as  rough  as  he 
looked,  for  he  took  off  his  hat  and  said 
in  a  pleasant  voice, 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  a  widow  by 
the  name  of  Harrow  lives  in  this  neigh- 
borhood? I  was  directed  this  way,  I 
think." 

"Over  yonder  is  the  house,"  said  Com- 
fort, pointing  out  into  the  night.  "And 
the  next  time  yer  come,  be  keerful  not 
to  thump  so  hard.  We  are  not  used  to 
it  in  this  'ere  part  of  the  country." 

Nelly  heard  the  young  man  laugh  as 
he  walked  down  the  path  from  the 
house ;  and  something  in  the  sound 
brought  Miss  Milly  to  her  mind.  The 


124         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

more  she  thought  of  it,  the  more  cer- 
tain she  became  that  the  young  man's 
voice  was  like  her  teacher's.  She  sat 
still  a  little  while,  thinking,  and  idly 
scratching  her  pencil  back  and  forth. 
At  length  she  said,  quite  forgetful  of 
her  writing, 

"  Comfort,  didn't  Mrs.  Harrow's  son 
run  away  to  sea,  ever  so  long  ago  ? " 

This  question,  simple  as  it  was,  seemed 
to  fill  Comfort  with  sudden  knowledge. 
She  clapped  her  hands  together  joyfully. 

«  My  stars !  ef  that  don't  beat  all !  I 
do  b'lieve  Sidney  Harrow  is  come  back 
again ! " 

She  went  to  the  door  to  look  after 
him,  but  his  figure  had  long  since  van- 
ished down  the  path.  The  gloom  of 
night  reigned,  undisturbed,  without. 
There  was  no  sailor -boy  to  be  seen. 

* 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         125 

"  My  stars ! "  said  Comfort,  again  and 
again ;  "  ef  that  was  only  Miss  Milly's 
brother  come  back  to  help  keer  for  the 
family,  instead  of  runnin'  off  like  a  bad 
ongrateful  feller,  as  he  was,  I'll  be  glad 
for  one." 

"And  I'U  be  glad  too,"  cried  Nelly; 
"and  then  dear  Miss  Elinor  need  not 
teach,  but  can  read  books  all  day,  if 
she  likes,  and  be  happy.  Oh,  kitty,  kit- 
ty !  will  not  that  be  nice  ? "  and  in  the 
delight  of  her  heart,  the  little  girl 
caught  up  the  cat  from  the  hearth, 
and  began  to  caress  her  in  a  joyful 
manner,  that  the  sober  puss  must  have 
considered  rather  indecorous,  for  she  sat 
still  in  her  lap,  looking  as  grave  as  a 
judge,  and  never  winked  or  purred 
once  at  her  young  mistress. 

Here  the  clock  struck  nine, 
I 


126         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

u  Dear,  dear ! "  said  Nelly ;  "  and  I 
haven't  finished  my  poetry  yet !  and 
very  soon  I  must  go  to  bed."  Back 
she  went  with  renewed  vigor.  "  What 
were  you  saying,  Comfort,  when  that 
young  man  knocked?  Oh,  I  know, — 
to  tell  Johnny  to  write  to  me ;  I  re- 
member now.  Don't  you  think  it  will 
seem  strange  to  Johnny  to  be  with  his 
mother  all  the  time,  instead  of  send- 
ing her  letters  from  school?  eh,  Com- 
fort?" 

But  the  old  woman  was  lost  in  her 
thoughts  and  her  smoking,  and  did  not 
reply.  Nelly  bent  over  her  paper,  read, 
and  re-read  the  two  lines  already  accom- 
plished, and  after  musing  in  some  per- 
plexity what  should  come  next,  asked, 

"  Comfort,  what  rhymes  with  B  ?  " 

"Stingin'  bee,  Nell?" 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         127 

«No,  the  letter  B." 

"Oh,  that's  it,  is  it?  Well,  let  me 
think.  I  haven't  made  poetry  this  ever 
so  long.  There's  'ragin'  sea,' — how's 
that?"  said  Comfort,  beginning  to  show 
symptoms  of  getting  deeply  interested. 
"  Now  take  to  'flectin'  on  that  ar, 
Nell." 

Nell  did  reflect  some  time,  but  to  no 
purpose.  Some  way  she  could  not  fit 
in  Comfort's  "  ragin'  sea."  It  was  no 
use,  it  would  not  go !  She  wrote  and 
erased,  and  erased  and  wrote,  for  a  full 
quarter  of  an  hour.  After  much  anx- 
ious labor,  she  produced  finally  this 
verse,  and  bidding  Comfort  listen,  read 
it  aloud,  in  a  very  happy,  triumphant 
way.  Then  she  copied  it  neatly  on  a 
piece  of  paper,  in  a  large,  uneven,  child- 
ish handwriting,  which  she  had  only 


128         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

lately    acquired.     It    was   now    ready  to 
be  presented  on  the  morrow. 

TO    JOHNNY   BIXBY. 

Our  days  of  youth  will  soon  be  o'er, 
In  Harrow's  school  we'll  meet  no  more ; 
You'll  write  no  more  to  Mrs.  B., 
Oh  then,  dear  Johnny,  write  to  me ! 

"And  now,"  said  Nelly,  as  she  folded 
up  the  precious  paper,  after  having  duly 
received  Comfort's  congratulations  and 
praise, — "and  now  I'm  going  straight  to 
tell  mother  about  Sidney  Harrow." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         129 


CHAPTER   VI. 

GETTING    LOST. 

THE  next  day,  when  Nelly  went  to 
school  with  her  verse-paper  in  her  hand, 
all  ready  for  presentation,  she  found  the 
children  talking  together  in  little  groups, 
in  tones  of  great  surprise  and  delighted 
satisfaction. 

Melinda,  now  grown  kind  and  loving 
to  Nelly,  as  a  consequence  of  that  little 
girl's  own  patience  and  affectionate  ef- 
fort, came  forwaxd  at  once  to  tell  the 
news. 

"Only  think!"  she  said;  "Mrs.  Har- 
row's son,  Sidney,  has  come  home,  and 
oh,  Miss  Milly  and  Miss  Elinor  are  so 
glad!" 


130         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"And  so  am  I"  cried  Nelly ;  " if  ever 
there  was  good  luck,  that  is." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  about  that,"  said 
Melinda,  with  a  sage,  grown-up  air;  for 
she  liked  to  seem  like  a  woman,  and 
often  told  her  companions,  "dear  knows, 
if  she  wasn't  big  enough  to  be  thought 
one,  she  would  like  to  know  who  was!" 

"Why,  isn't  Mr.  Sidney  a  nice  young 
man,  Melindy  ? "  asked  Nelly,  in  bewil- 
derment. 

"Hush!"  said  Melinda,  drawing  her 
into  a  corner;  "don't  talk  so  loud.  You 
see,  he's  come  home  as  poor  as  he  went, 
and  folks  are  afraid  that  he  will  go  on 
just  as  he  did  before,  —  that  is,  spend 
all  his  own  earnings  and  plenty  of  his 
mother's,  too." 

"Dear,  dear!"  said  Nelly;  "that  will 
•  be  hard  for  Miss  Milly." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         131 

"Anyway,"  continued  Melinda,  wisely, 
"we  can  hope  for  the  best,  you  know. 
Miss  Milly  is  so  glad  to  have  him  back, 
that  she  came  into  this  'ere  school-room, 
this  very  morning,  and  told  the  scholars 
she  was  going  to  take  them  all  on  a 
picnic,  to-morrow,  up  yonder,  on  Mr. 
Bradish's  mountain.  We  are  to  ask  our 
mothers  if  we  can  go,  and  then  come 
here  with  our  dinners  in  our  baskets, 
and  set  off  together  as  soon  as  the 
grass  dries.  Fun,  isn't  it  ? " 

Nelly's  eyes  danced. 

K  A.  picnic !  well,  if  that  isn't  nice  !  I 
hope  Comfort  will  put  something  real 
good  in  my  basket,  to-morrow."  Then 
she  added,  thoughtfully,  "  I  wonder  if 
Martin  might  not  go,  too?" 

"  I'll  ask,"  said  Melinda ;  and  up  she 
went  to  Miss  Milly,  who  at  that  moment 
entered. 


132         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Little  Johnny  Bixby,  a  boy  of  ten, 
now  came  up  to  wish  Nell  good-morn- 
ing, and  talk  about  the  picnic.  Nelly 
gave  him  her  poetry,  and  he  read  it, 
and  said, 

"It's  splendid,  Nelly;  I'll  show  it  to 
mother  as  soon  as  I  get  home." 

The  next  day  came.  The  skies  were 
clear,  but  the  wind  was  high,  and 
swayed  the  branches  of  the  trees 
around  the  farm-house,  and  swept  the 
long,  wet  grass  to  and  fro. 

"  Is  it  going  to  storm  ?  "  asked  Nelly, 
anxiously,  of  Martin,  as  immediately  af- 
ter breakfast  they  stood  together  in  the 
door-way  and  looked  forth. 

"No,"  said  Martin;  "I  think  it  will 
not  storm,  but  the  breeze  will  be  a 
pretty  stiff  one  all  day.  Perhaps  Miss 
Milly  will  postpone  the  picnic." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         133 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  Nelly;  "I  hope  not. 
What !  put  it  off  after  Comfort  has 
baked  us  that  great,  bouncing  sponge- 
cake, Martin?" 

Martin  was  going  too,  for  Miss  Milly 
had  sent  him  an  invitation,  and  Mr. 
Brooks  had  granted  him,  very  willingly, 
a  holiday.  He  had  only  to  help  milk 
the  cows  early  in  the  morning,  and 
then  he  was  free  to  follow  his  pleasure 
till  sundown.  He  was  dressed  now  in 
his  Sunday  suit;  his  hair  was  combed 
smoothly  over  his  forehead,  and  his  best 
cloth  cap  was  in  his  hands.  Altogether 
he  looked  so  tidy,  so  good,  so  happy, 
that  when  Mr.  Brooks  came  in  the 
room,  he  asked  Comfort,  with  a  smile, 
if  she  didn't  think  a  lad  of  about  the 
age  of  Martin  ought  to  have  at  least  a 
dime  of  spending  money,  when  he  went 


134       ,  NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

to  picnics.  On  Comfort's  saying  hearti- 
ly, without  taking  one  single  instant 
for  reflection,  "Yes,  Sir,"  the  farmer  put 
his  hand  in  his  pocket,  drew  out  a  new 
and  bright  quarter  of  a  dollar,  and 
dropped  it  in  Martin's  cap.  Martin  tried 
to  return  it,  but  Mr.  Brooks  would  not 
hear  to  any  such  thing,  but  shouldered 
his  hoe  and  went  ofi^  whistling,  into  the 
garden. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  to  do  with  it," 
said  Nelly,  in  a  confidential  whisper ; 
"  buy  round  hearts ;  they're  four  for  a 
penny.  Only  think  of  four  times  twen- 
ty-five round  hearts!  How  much  is 
that,  Martin?" 

Martin  laughed,  and  said  he  guessed 
he  would  not  invest  in  round  hearts,  for 
Comfort's  cake  was  so  large. 

"So  monstrous  large,"  put  in  Nelly,  di- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         135 

viding    a    glance    of    affection    between 
Comfort  and  the  cake. 

"Yes,"  continued  Martin;  "it  is  so 
monstrous  that  it  ought  to  last,  at  least, 
two  whole  days." 

The  farmer's  wife  came  in  just  then, 
and  told  them  she  would  pack  the  din- 
ner-basket herself,  to  see  that  every- 
thing was  right,  and  that  it  was  full 
enough,  for  she  said  she  had  heard  some- 
body remark  that  good  appetites  were 
sure  to  go  along  on  picnics.  Nelly  and 
Martin  stood  by  and  looked  at  her  as 
she  unfolded  a  clean  white  towel,  and 
outspread  it  in  the  basket,  so  that  the 
ends  hung  over  the  sides.  After  this 
she  took  some  thin  pieces  of  cold  beef 
and  put  them  between  slices  of  bread 
and  butter,  and  these  she  packed  away 
first.  Now  came  Comfort's  sponge-cake, 


136         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

cut  in  quarters,  and  as  many  little  lady- 
apples  as  remained  from  the  winter's 
store,  —  for  it  was  late  in  the  spring. 
A  cup  to  drink  out  of  the  mountain 
streams  was  also  added,  and  the  tow- 
el-ends were  nicely  folded  over  the 
whole  and  pinned  together. 

A  happy  pair  they  were,  when  they 
set  out, — Martin  carrying  the  provisions, 
and  Nelly  singing  and  making  flying 
skips  beside  him.  When  they  reached 
the  school-house,  nearly  all  the  children 
were  assembled.  Miss  Milly  was  there, 
and  her  brother  too,  a  handsome  young 
lad,  of  about  eighteen,  with  a  very 
brown,  sunburnt  face.  Nelly  knew  him, 
the  moment  she  saw  him,  to  be  the 
same  person  she  had  seen  before.  They 
were  not  to  start  for  an  hour  yet,  for, 
high  as  the  wind  had  been,  and  was, 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         137 

the  grass  was  still  glittering  with  dew. 
The  little  road-side  brooks  were  furrowed 
into  white-crested  waves,  and  the  school- 
house  creaked  and  moaned  with  the 
gusts  that  blew  against  it. 

"  I  am  almost  afraid  to  venture  taking 
the  children  out/'  said  Miss  Milly ;  but 
upon  hearing  this,  such  a  clamor  of 
good-humored  expostulation  arose,  and 
so  many  sorrowful  "oh's,"  and  "oh  dear 
me's,"  resounded  through  the  room,  that 
Sidney  Harrow,  as  any  other  boy  would 
have  done,  begged  his  sister  to  have 
mercy  and  never  mind  the  wind. 

In  a  little  while  the  party  started. 
Mr.  Bradish's  mountain,  the  proposed 
scene  of  the  picnic,  was  distant  about 
one  mile  from  the  school-house.  The 
route  to  it  lay  through  a  long,  shady 
lane  that  gradually  wound  towards  the 


138        NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

woods,  and  lost  itself  at  last  amid  the 
huge,  gray  rocks  and  dense  shade  of 
the  hill-top  itself.  It  was  spring-time, 
and  the  grass  was  very  green,  and  deli- 
cate wild  flowers  starred  all  the  road- 
side. Here  and  there,  in  the  crevice  of 
a  mossy  stone,  grew  a  tuft  of  wild  pinks, 
nodding  against  a  group  of  scarlet  colum- 
bines, while,  wherever  the  ground  afforded 
unusual  moisture,  blue  violets  thrust  up 
their  graceful  heads  in  thick  masses. 

"  Hurrah ! "  cried  Johnny  Bixby,  as 
they  reached  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tain ;  "  Hurrah !  here  we  are  at  last. 
The  picnic's  begun  ! " 

Miss  Milly  said  the  children  might 
stray  around  together  for  some  time  be- 
fore it  would  be  the  dinner-hour,  and 
they  might  gather  as  many  wild  flowers 
as  they  wished,  to  decorate  the  picnic 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         139 

grounds.  All  the  girls  set  to  work,  and 
such  a  crowd  of  violets,  anemones,  wild 
buckwheat,  and  pinks  as  was  soon  piled 
around  Miss  Milly's  feet,  was  a  sight  to 
behold.  While  Sidney  Harrow  with  Mar- 
tin and  the  rest  of  the  boys  were  fish- 
ing in  a  little  stream  that  ran  over  the 
mountain,  about  one  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant,  Miss  Milly's  party  tied  bouquets 
to  the  branches  of  the  trees,  and  hung 
garlands  on  the  bushes,  around  the 
spot  where  they  were  to  dine.  The 
wind  died  away,  the  birds  sung  out 
merrily,  and  the  air  grew  soft  and 
warm,  so  that,  after  all,  there  was 
no  fear  of  little  folks  taking  cold.  The 
brook  where  Sidney  and  Martin  led  the 
boys  was  not  a  very  deep  one,  and 
therefore  it  was  not  dangerous,  but  it 
was  celebrated  for  miles  around  for  its 


140         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

fish.  A  large,  overhanging  rock,  under 
the  shade  of  a  tree,  served,  as  Martin 
said,  for  a  "  roosting-place,"  and  from  it 
they  found  the  bites  so  frequent  that 
quite  a  little  string  of  fish  was  made, 
and  hung  on  some  dead  roots  that  pro- 
jected from  the  bank. 

"What  a  wild  place  this  is,"  said  Mar- 
tin, looking  around  him,  as  he  drew  in 
his  line  for  the  fourth  tune. 

"Yes,"  said  Sidney;  "it  is.  That  is 
the  best  of  it.  I  wouldn't  give  a  fig  for 
it  if  it  wasn't.  Look  at  that  cow  com- 
ing to  drink.  I  wonder  where  she  hails 
from  !  How  she  looks  at  us  !  " 

The  cow  did  indeed  regard  them  with 
a  long  stare  of  astonishment,  and  then, 
scarcely  tasting  the  water,  she  plunged, 
bellowing,  into  the  woods  again. 

"She  is  frightened,"  said  Martin;  "that's 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         141 

old  Duchess,  one  of  Mr.  Bradish's  cows. 
He  turns  them  out  with  their  calves  ev- 
ery summer,  to  take  care  of  themselves 
till  fall." 

u  Why,  is  the  pasture  good  enough 
for  that,  up  here  on  this  mountain  ? " 
asked  Sidney,  baiting  his  hook. 

a  Yes,"  replied  Martin ;  "  I  think  so  ; 
it's  rather  rough,  but  cows  are  mighty 
knowin',  and  pick  out  the  best.  Besides, 
they  have  their  freedom,  and  they  thrive 
on  that  as  much  as  anything.  tThen 
the  calves  are  so  well  grown  in  the  fall 
by  these  means,  that  when  farmers,  who 
put  them  out,  go  to  drive  them  home 
to  winter -quarters,  they  hardly  know 
their  own  again." 

"  There,  she's  coming  back ! "  cried  a 
little  boy ;  "  and  a  whole  lot  with  her ! " 

Martin  looked  where  the   crashing  of 


142         NELLY'S  FIEST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

boughs  told  of  the  approach,  and  saw 
about  a  dozen  cows,  headed  by  Duchess, 
making  for  that  part  of  the  stream 
where  they  were  fishing.  Some  half- 
grown  calves  scampered  at  their  heels, 
in  a  frightened  way,  that  showed  they 
were  not  much  accustomed  to  the  sight 
of  human  beings. 

u  Poor  Duchess  !  Good  Duchess ! "  said 
Martin,  in  a  kind  tone ;  but  Duchess 
tossed  up  her  nice,  brown  nose,  and 
snorted  at  him. 

"  She  don't  like  the  looks  of  us,  that's 
flat,"  said  Sidney,  with  a  little  alarm 
that  made  Martin  smile;  "I'm  sure  I 
don't  like  her  appearance  one  bit.  Sup- 
pose she  should  horn  us ! "  And  he 
jumped  hastily  up  from  the  rock. 

"  What ! "  said  Martin  ;  "  you,  a  sailor, 
who  know  what  it  is  to  face  death  on 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         143 

the  ocean,  every  day  of  your  life,  and 
yet  afraid  of  a  cow!  Besides,  she  hasn't 
a  horn  to  her  head !  Just  look  at  her. 
She  has  nothing  but  two  little,  misera- 
ble stumps ! " 

Sidney  came  back  again,  for  he  had 
retreated  a  step  or  two,  under  the  trees, 
and  looked  somewhat  ashamed. 

"What's  the  use  of  jumpin'?"  said 
Johnny  Bixby,  in  a  big,  pompous  tone, 
that  he  meant  to  be  very  courageous 
and  manly ;  "  Duchess  is  only  frightened 
at  seeing  us.  This  is  her  drinking-place, 
may  be." 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Sidney  ;  "  of  course  /  am 
not  afraid;"  but  his  lips  turned  blue  as 
Duchess  made  a  sudden  move,  half-way 
across  the  stream,  and  then  stood  still, 
and  roared  again. 

"  She's  a  little  scared  at  us,  that's  all," 


144         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

40 

said  Martin ;  "  she'll  get  used  to  the  sight 
of  us  pretty  soon." 

"After  she's  made  the  water  muddy 
and  spoiled  the  fishing,"  said  Sidney,  in 
an  ill-natured  tone. 

Martin  took  off  his  shoes  and  stockings, 
rolled  up  his  trousers,  and  waded  slowly 
across  the  brook  towards  the  herd  of 
cattle,  holding  out  his  hand  and  speak- 
ing to  one  or  two  of  the  animals  by 
name,  in  a  coaxing,  petting  way: 

"  Come  here,  Spotty,  —  come  here, 
good  little  White  Sue, — come  here,  my 
poor  old  Duchess !" 

The  cows  stood  and  looked  at  him, 
very  quietly.  The  one  he  called  Sue, 
was  small,  and  entirely  white,  with  the 
exception  of  a  bright  red  star  on  her 
forehead ;  she  was  a  very  pretty  crea- 
ture. She  seemed  to  remember  having 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         145 

seen  Martin  before,  for  presently  she 
marched  slowly  up  to  him  and  sniffed 
his  hand,  while  staring  at  him  from  head 
to  foot.  The  boy  scratched  her  ears,  as 
he  had  often  done  before  upon  passing 
Mr.  Bradish's  barnyard ;  she  appeared  to 
be  pleased,  and  rubbed  her  head  against 
his  shoulder. 

"Softly,  there,  Susie,"  said  Martin;  "I 
don't  like  that.  That's  my  Sunday  go-to- 
meeting  coat." 

He  stepped  back  as  he  spoke,  and 
the  abrupt  movement  alarmed  the 
whole  troop.  White  Sue  gave  a  loud 
bellow,  and  dashed  abruptly  across  the 
stream  into  the  woods  on  the  other 
side,  —  her  companions  hurriedly  follow- 
ing, splashing  the  water  over  themselves 
and  their  calves  as  they  did  so. 

Sidney  Harrow  dropped  his  pole,  and 
10 


146         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

with  a  half-shriek,  ran  in  the  opposite 
direction,  towards  the  picnic  ground. 

As  the  fishing  at  that  place  was  now 
over,  on  account  of  the  disturbance  of 
the  water,  Martin  told  the  boys  they 
had  better  join  the  rest  of  the  party; 
so  they  gathered  up  the  fish  and  bait, 
and  left  the  spot,  Martin  carrying  the 
rod  of  ihe  brave  sailor  in  addition  to 
his  own. 

They  found  Miss  Milly  building  a  fire 
in  a  small  clearing,  where  it  would  not 
scorch  the  trees.  Sidney  was  with  her. 
As  he  saw  the  boys  approach  he  got 
down  on  his  knees  and  began  to  blow 
the  flame  into  a  blaze,  and  puffed  and 
panted  so  hard  at  his  work,  that  he 
could  not  even  get  his  breath  to  say 
"thank  you,"  when  Martin  remarked, 
"Here  is  your  rod,  Sidney.  You  left 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         147 

it  on  the  rock.  I'll  lean  it  against  this 
maple,  till  you  are  ready  to  take  charge 
of  it." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come/'  said  Miss 
Milly  to  the  group  of  boys;  "for  we  are 
getting  magnificent  appetites,  and  I  wanted 
Sidney  and  Martin  to  roast  the  clams." 

"  Clams  !  "  cried  Martin ;  "  that  was 
what  made  Sidney's  load  so  heavy,  then, 
coming  up  the  hill.  How  I  like  roasted 
clams ! " 

Miss  Milly  showed  him  Sidney's  empty 
basket,  and  told  him  that  she  and  Me- 
linda  had  prepared  a  compact  bed  of 
the  clams  on  the  ground,  and  that  they 
had  then  placed  over  them  a  quantity 
of  dry  branches,  ready  to  kindle  when 
Sidney  should  come  with  the  matches, 

•i 

which  he  carried  in  his  pocket,  and  had 
brought  for  the  purpose. 


148         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

The  tablecloth  was  already  spread  on 
a  flat  rock  near  at  hand,  and  the  little 
girls  were  still  busy  arranging  the  con- 
tents of  their  baskets  upon  it,  for,  by 
general  consent,  they  were  to  dine  to- 
gether that  day,  and  share  with  each 
other  the  eatables  that  had  been  pro- 
vided for  the  excursion. 

Martin  reached  down  his  and  Nelly's 
basket,  from  a  high  limb  where  he  had 
hung  it  for  safety,  and  Comfort's  big 
cake,  which  Mrs.  Brooks  had  cut  in 
quarters,  was  fitted  together  and  placed 
in  the  centre  of  the  cloth  for  the  chief 
ornament. 

"  Will  not  Comfort  feel  proud  when 
she  hears  it?"  whispered  Nelly  to  Mar- 
tin, as  she  passed  him  with  her  hands 
full  of  knives  and  forks. 

The  fire  was  soon  blazing  and  sputter- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         149 

ing  over  the  clams,  and  in  a  short  time 
Sidney  pronounced  them  cooked.  With 
branches  of  trees,  the  boys  then  drew 
the  burning  fragments  away,  and  scat- 
tered the  red  coals  till  the  bed  of  baked 
clams  presented  itself.  Miss  Milly  tried 
one  and  found  it  was  just  in  a  fine  state 
to  eat,  and  then  the  children  were  told 
that  all  was  ready. 

Armed  with  plates,  pieces  of  bread 
and  butter,  and  knives  and  forks,  they 
drew  near,  and  the  talking  and  laughing 
that  ensued,  as  each  opened  the  hot 
shells,  for  his  or  herself,  made  a  merry 
scene  of  it. 

There  were  enough  for  all,  and  to 
spare ;  and  when  they  left  the  clam-bed, 
still  smoking  and  smouldering,  to  assem- 
ble around  "  table-rock,"  as  Melinda  called 
it,  where  the  daintier  part  of  the  feast 


150         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

was  spread,  Martin  said  he  had  never 
tasted  such  finely  roasted  clams  in  his 
life. 

"  I  expect/'  said  Miss  Milly,  "  that  the 
charm  lies  in  our  appetites." 

"Yes,"  said  Johnny  Bixby,  taking  an 
enormous  bite  of  cake,  and,  to  Nelly's 
great  horror,  speaking  with  his  mouth 
full — "yes,  I  think  goin'  on  picnics  and 
such  like,  is  real  hungry  work." 

This  speech  was  received  with  a  shout 
of  approbation;  and,  on  Sidney  remark- 
ing that  he  thought  that  Johnny  should 
be  made  the  orator  of  the  occasion,  the 
children  laughed  again,  and  quite  as 
heartily  as  though  they  fully  understood 
what  orator  meant. 

When  the  dinner  was  over,  and  the 
larger  girls  began  to  gather  up  the  frag- 
ments, and  restore  plates  and  spoons  to 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         151 

their  owners,  the  rest  prepared  for  a 
ramble.  Miss  Milly  said  they  must  not 
go  far,  nor  stay  long,  and,  promising 
to  obey,  the  children  set  out  together. 

As  soon  as  they  were  separated  from 
the  others,  which  happened  insensibly, 
Johnny  Bixby  gave  Nelly,  with  whom 
he  was  walking,  a  very  animated  ac- 
count of  Sidney  Harrow's  behavior  at 
the  fishing-ground. 

"Afraid  of  cows!"  said  Nell;  "well, 
that  beats  all  I  ever  heard.  I  am  afraid 
that  Sidney  will  not  help  Miss  Milly 
along  much.  Come,  show  me  where 
you  fished,  Johnny,  will  you  ? " 

Johnny  led  the  way,  and  in  a  little 
while  he  and  Nelly  stood  on  the  very 
rock  from  which  the  boys  had  dropped 
their  lines  in  the  morning.  The  moss 
upon  it  was  trodden  under  foot,  and  it 


152        NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

was  quite  wet  where  the  fish  had  been 
hauled  in. 

"I  wonder  if  this  is  a  creek,"  said 
Nell,  looking  up  and  down  the  brook 
with  an  admiring  gaze ;  u  Marm  Lizy 
used  often  to  tell  me  of  a  creek  where 
she  rowed  a  boat,  when  she  was  young." 

"  Marm  Lizy  ?  "  asked  Johnny ;  "  who's 
that,  Nell  ?  " 

Nelly  turned  very  red,  and  was  silent. 
She  remembered,  like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, that  John  was  a  stranger  in  the 
village,  his  home  being  in  the  adjacent 
city,  and  that  therefore  he  had,  perhaps, 
never  heard  the  story  of  her  degraded 
childhood.  Pride  rose  up  and  made  her 
deceitful. 

"  Marm  Lizy ! "  she  repeated,  careless- 
ly ;  "  oh,  I  don't  know ;  somebody  or 
other  who  used  to  live  in  the  village. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.        153 

What's  that,  Johnny,  flopping  about  in 
the  grass  ?  " 

She  pointed  to  the  rock-side,  where, 
as  Johnny  soon  saw,  a  decided  "flop- 
ping" was  indeed  going  on. 

"A  fish!  a  fish!"  cried  the  boy,  catch- 
ing it  and  holding  it  up  in  both  hands, 
so  that  Nell  could  look  at  it;  "I'll  take 
it  to  Martin  to  put  on  the  string  with 
the  rest.  It  must  have  floundered  off." 

"  Oh,  let  us  put  it  back,"  cried  Nelly ; 
"poor  Mr.  Fish!  I  think  you  would  real- 
ly like  to  try  your  hand  at  swimming 
asrain." 

o 

"Fin,  you  mean,"  laughed  John;  "fish- 
es don't  have  hands  that  ever  /  heard 
tell.  Shall  I  let  it  go?" 

"Oh,  yes!"  cried  Nell;  "but  wait  till 
I  get  down  from  the  rock  so  that  I  can 
see  it  swim  away."  She  clambered  down, 


154        NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

and  soon  stood  by  Johnny's  side  on  the 
long  grass  that  grew  close  to  the  brook's 
edge,  and  mingled  with  the  little  white 
bubbles  on  its  surface.  Johnny  stooped, 
and,  holding  the  fish,  put  his  hands  un- 
der the  water.  The  moment  the  poor, 
tortured  thing  felt  the  touch  of  its  na- 
tive element,  it  gave  a  start  and  would 
have  darted  away. 

"Oh,  Johnny!"  exclaimed  Nell ;  "don't 
tease  it  so  cruelly.  Please  let  it  go." 

Johnny  lifted  up  his  hands,  and  in- 
stantly the  fish  swam  off  so  swiftly  that 
they  could  scarcely  see  which  way  it 
went.  At  last  Nelly  espied  it  under  the 
shadow  of  the  rock,  puffing  its  little 
sides  in  and  out,  and  looking  at  them 
with  its  keen,  bright  eyes,  in  a  very 
frightened  way. 

"Poor     fish!"     said    Johnny;    ."swim 


M^    : 


•  Johnny  lifted  up  his  hands,  and  instantly  the  fish  swam  off."      1'age  154. 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         155 

away,  and  remember  not  to  nibble  at 
boy's  hooks  again.  A  worm  is  a  very 
good  thing  for  you  when  it  isn't  at  the 
end  of  a  piece  of  string." 

The  fish  gazed  at  him  a  little  longer, 
then  seeming  to  take  his  advice,  darted 
from  the  rock  to  where  the  water  was 
deeper  and  darker,  and  was  soon  lost  to 
sight. 

"That's  the  place  Sidney's  cows  came 
from,"  said  Johnny,  pointing  to  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  stream,  where  the  bushes 

m 

were  torn  and  trodden,  and  marks  of 
hoofs  were  in  the  mud  and  grass. 

"Let  us  take  off"  our  shoes  and  stock- 
ings and  wade  over  and  follow  their 
track,  to  see  where  it  leads,"  cried  Nelly; 
and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the 
two  children  soon  found  themselves  bare- 
footed,—  Nell  tying  her  boots  to  dangle 


156         NELLY'S  FIKST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

one  from  each  of  her  apron-strings,  and 
Johnny  carrying  his  in  his  hands.  Nell 
got  her  feet  in  first,  but  drew  back,  say- 
ing it  was  cold ;  so  Johnny  dashed  over, 
splashing  his  little  bare  legs,  and  leav- 
ing a  muddy  track  all  across  the  brook. 

"There,"  said  he,  somewhat  boastful- 
ly, "that's  the  way !  I  am  glad  I'm  not 
afraid  like  girls." 

Nelly  did  not  like  this  treatment,  and 
she  was  about  giving  a  hasty  and  an- 
gry answer,  when,  sobered  by  the  recol- 
lection of  the  deep  fault  she  had  already 
committed,  by  her  late  untruth,  she 
only  said,  — 

"  Sidney  was  afraid  of  cows ! "  and 
waded  slowly  and  silently  through  the 
water. 

They  found  the  path  to  be  quite  a 
well-worn  one.  It  was  evidently  that 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         157 

by  which  the  cows  were  in  the  habit  of 
coming  to  drink.  It  was  pretty,  too, 
and  very  wild.  In  a  little  while,  as 
they  left  the  brook  farther  and  farther 
behind  them,  the  walking  became  dry 
and  very  good,  so  that  they  resumed 
their  shoes,  but  not  their  stockings, — 
Johnny  stating  that  he  hated  the  latter, 
and  would  rather  "scratch  himself  to 
pieces"  on  the  blackberry  thorns  than 
put  them  on  again.  The  shade  was 
very  pleasant.  Once  or  twice  they 
paused  to  rest  on  the  large  stones 
which  were  scattered  here  and  there 
through  the  path,  but  this  was  not  for 
any  great  length  of  time;  they  wander- 
ed on  and  on,  taking  no  note  of  time, 
nor  of  their  prolonged  absence  from 
their  companions,  but  enjoying  ev- 
ery thing  they  saw,  and  wishing  all 


158         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

the    days    in    the    year   were   like    this 
one. 

The  openings  in  the  trees  were  very 
few;  they  were  penetrating,  although 
they  did  not  know  it,  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  wood.  Once,  and  once  on- 
ly, they  caught  a  glimpse,  through  the 
branches,  of  a  small  clearing.  Half- 
burned  stumps  still  showed  themselves 
amid  the  rank  grass.  On  the  top  of  an 
elevation,  at  one  side  of  this  clearing,  a 
horse  was  quietly  grazing.  As  he  moved, 
Johnny  saw  he  was  lame,  and  from  this 
the  children  judged  that,  like  the  cows, 
he  was  turned  out  to  pasture  for  the 
summer.  As  Nelly  parted  the  bushes  to 
look  at  him,  he  gave  a  frightened  start, 
and  began  to  paw  the  grass.  He  still 
stood  on  the  little  hill,  in  beautiful  re- 
lief against  the  soft  blue  of  the  sky, 


NELLY'S  FIKST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         159 

the  rising  breeze  of  the  coming  sunset 
blowing  his  long,  black  mane  and  tail 
gracefully  in  the  air  as  the  children 
turned  away  to  pursue  their  journey. 
The  cow-path  soon  branched  into  others 
more  winding  and  narrow  than  the 
one  they  had  just  quitted.  The  time 
since  dinner  had  passed  so  rapidly  and 
happily,  that  they  did  not  dream  night 
was  coming,  or  that  they  had  strayed 
too  far  away  from  their  companions. 
The  wild  flowers  grew  so  thickly,  and 
the  mosses  were  of  such  surprising  soft- 
ness and  length,  that  it  was  scarcely  any 
wonder  they  forgot  their  teacher's  part- 
ing inj  unction. 

When  night  at  last  really  began  to 
approach,  and  Nelly  looked  anxiously 
around  at  the  gathering  twilight  in  the 
woods,  Johnny  said  it  was  nothing  but 


160         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

the  natural  shadows  of  the  trees,  and  so 
they  concluded  to  go  on  a  little  farther 
to  gather  a  few  of  the  laurel  blossoms 
they  saw  growing  amid  their  shining 
green  leaves,  a  short  distance  beyond. 
When  they  had  reached  this  spot,  and 
captured  the  desired  treasures,  Nelly  saw 
with  dismay,  that  the  path  ended  ab- 
ruptly against  the  side  of  an  immense 
rock,  quite  as  large,  she  thought,  as  the 
whole  of  the  farm-house  at  home. 

"Nell!"  said  Johnny,  suddenly;  "I  be- 
lieve we  are  lost !  How  to  find  our 
way  back  again  over  these  long  paths 
we  have  been  walking  through  all  the 
afternoon,  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know." 

"And  I  am  so  tired  now,  I  can  hard- 
ly stir,"  said  Nelly,  in  a  complaining 
tone ;  K  and  night  is  near,  as  I  told  you 
before." 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         161 

Johnny  looked  around  without  answer- 
ing. He  saw  that  there  was  no  help 
for  it;  they  must  return  the  way  they 
came,  long  as  it  was,  or  stay  in  the 
woods  all  night. 

"Come,  Nelly,"  he  said,  "we  must  go 
back  on  the  same  path,  if  we  can." 

It  was  getting  quite  dusky.  They 
took  each  other  by  the  hand  and 
trudged  along.  One  by  one  the  flow- 
ers dropped  from  Nelly's  full  apron,  to 
the  ground,  and  at  length  her  weary 
fingers  unclasped,  and  the  apron  itself 
resumed  its  proper  position.  Everybody 
knows  how  easy  it  is  to  lose  one's  way, 
and  what  a  difficult  thing  it  is  to  find 
it  again.  Our  wanderers  discovered  it  to 
be  so.  They  got  upon  a  wrong  path  that 
led  them  into  soft,  wet  ground,  where, 

the  first  thing  they  knew,  they  were  up 
11 


162         NELLY'S  FIKST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

to  their  ankles  in  mud;  and  when  they 
had  extricated  themselves  as  well  as 
they  could,  and  struck  out  boldly  for 
home,  confident  that  they  were  now 
making  a  direct  short-cut  for  it,  they 
found  themselves,  in  a  little  while,  on 
the  same  path,  at  the  foot  of  the  same 
large  rock  where  they  were  before. 

This  was  a  little  too  much  for  the 
patience  of  the  two  picnicers.  John- 
ny looked  at  Nell  gravely. 

"Dont!"  he  said,  "don't,  Nelly  dear!" 

"  Don't  what  ?  "  asked  Nelly,  dropping 
down  where  she  stood,  so  completely  ex- 
hausted as  to  be  glad  of  a  moment's 
rest. 

"Don't  cry.  You  look  just  like  it. 
All  girls  cry,  you  know." 

"Do  they?"  asked  Nell,  absently  look- 
ing about  her.  Then  she  asked,  with 


"They  saw  then,  that  this  huge  rock  was  on  the  very  summit  of  the  uiuun- 
tain."     I'age  163. 


N 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         163 

energy,  "Johnny,  do  you  know  what  I 
think  we  ought  to  do  ?  We  must  climb 
this  big  mountain  of  a  rock,  some  way, 
and  see  what  there  is  on  the  other  side 
of  it.  Maybe  we  are  near  home." 

"  I  guess  not,"  said  Johnny ;  "  but  I 
can  climb  it  if  you  can." 

After  thinking  the  case  over,  they 
clasped  hands  once  more,  and  began  the 
ascent.  They  had  to  sit  down  several 
times,  to  rest,  on  the  way.  The  sharp 
points  of  the  rock  and  the  narrow  crevices 
which  they  mounted,  hurt  their  tired 
feet 

At  last  they  reached  the  top,  and 
found  themselves  in  comparative  day- 
light, because  they  were  now  out  of  the 
woods.  They  saw  then,  that  this  huge 
rock  was  on  the  very  summit  of  the 
mountain  on  which  the  picnic  had  taken 


164         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

place.  They  beheld  from  it,  distinctly, 
their  homes  in  the  valley  beneath.  The 
rock  was  entirely  free  from  foliage,  and 
nothing  obscured  the  splendor  of  the 
landscape  below.  The  sun  had  just  set 
red  and  misty  in  the  west,  shedding  his 
parting  glow  over  the  peaceful  village 
and  the  scattered  farm-houses,  on  its 
outskirts. 

No  wonder  the  two  children  were 
overcome  by  fatigue, — they  had  been 
gradually,  but  unconsciously  ascending 
the  hill  the  whole  afternoon. 

They  stood  there  now,  hand  in 
hand,  looking  down  upon  their  far- 
off  homes. 

"Are  you  afraid,  Nell?"  asked  her 
companion,  in  a  low  voice. 

"No,"  said  Nell;  "not  now,  that  we 
are  out  of  those  dark  woods ;  besides,  I 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         165 

have  thought  of  a  plan  to  make  them 
see  us  from  below.  Look  here." 

She  put  her  hand  in  her  pocket  and 
drew  forth  a  match. 

"  Sidney  Harrow  dropped  this  when 
he  was  kindling  the  fire,  and  I  thought 
of  Comfort's  savin'  ways  and  picked  it 
up.  Can  you  guess  what  I  am  going 
to  do?  We  must  get  together  some 
brush-wood,  and  make  a  fine  blaze  that 
they  will  see  in  the  village." 

"And  even  if  they  don't  come  to 
bring  us  home,"  said  Johnny,  "  it  will 
keep  us  warm  till  morning,  and  then 
we  can  find  our  own  way.  But  we 
must  go  down  the  rock  to  get  the 
wood.  Oh  dear !  I  don't  think  much 
of  picnics,  do  you,  Nell?" 

Very  soon  a  fire  burned  on  the  top 
of  the  rock,  and  notwithstanding  their 


166         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

fatigue,  the  children  kept  it  in  a  broad 
blaze.  As  the  last  bright  cloud  of  sun- 
set faded  away,  the  flames  spread  bold- 
ly into  the  night  air,  a  signal  of  distress 
to  those  who  were  safely  housed  in  the 
farm-houses  beneath. 

Having  got  the  fire  well  going,  and  a 
large  stock  of  wood  on  hand  to  feed  it, 
the  weary,  dispirited  children  sat  down 
to  rest,  beside  it. 

Neither  spoke  for  a  long  time.  They 
listened  intently  for  the  expected  aid, 
yet  nothing  but  the  dreary  hoot  of  the 
owls  met  their  ears,  mingled  with  the 
moan  of  the  wind,  which  now  being 
steadily  increasing,  blew  the  flames  high 
in  the  air. 

Nelly  got  up  to  poke  the  coals  with 
a  branch  she  kept  for  that  purpose,  and 
when  she  had  done  so,  she  stood  lean- 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         167 

ing  upon  it  and  looking  sorrowfully  into 
the  valley,  where  she  saw  lights  twink- 
ling from  windows. 

"  Johnny,"  she  said,  softly,  "  do  you 
believe  anybody  can  be  perfectly  good  in 
this  world?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Johnny,  carelessly,  "  I 
s'pose  so,  if  a  fellow  tries  hard  enough. 
I  guess  it's  pretty  tough  work  though, 
don't  you  ?" 

"The  more  /  try,  the  worse  I  seem 
to  be;  at  least,  —  well,  you  see,  the 
worse  I  feel  myself  to  be." 

"We've  neither  of  us  been  very  good 
to-day,  Nell.  Miss  Milly  told  us  not  to 
go  far,  nor  to  stay  long,  and  I  believe 
we've  gone  as  far  as  we  could,  and  I'm 
sure  we've  stayed  a  deal  longer  than  we 
want  to,  —  /  have.  Are  you  afraid  now, 
Nell  ?  " 


168         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  God  takes  care  of  us,  always,"  said 
little  Nell,  solemnly,  still  leaning  on  her 
branch  and  crossing  her  feet.  "Comfort 
tells  me  that,  and  mother  reminds  me  of 
it  when  she  hears  me  say  my  prayers 
on  going  to  bed." 

"Do  you  believe  it?  Does  He  see  us 
now?"  questioned  her  companion,  raising 
himself  on  his  elbow  and  gazing  at  her 
as  she  stood  between  him  and  the  bright 
fire. 

"I  believe  it,"  was  the  reverent  an- 
swer. "Dear  Johnny,  let  us  not  forget 
our  prayers  to-night,  if  we  stay  up 
here." 

There  was  another  long,  long  pause. 

"Johnny?" 

«  Well,  Nell." 

"  I  was  wicked  to  you  to-day.  I  was 
proud,  and  told  you  I  didn't  know  who 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.        169 

Marm  Lizy  was,  when  you  asked  me. 
That  wasn't  true,  and  now  I'm  sor- 
ry." 

"Well,  who  was  she,  Nell?" 
Tears  of  repentance  for  her  own  sin, 
and  likewise  of  sorrow  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  poor  Marm  Lizy's  misspent  life, 
rose  to  Nelly's  eyes,  and  glittered  on 
her  cheeks  in  the  red  firelight,  like 
rubies.  Johnny  looked  at  her  with  re- 
doubled interest. 

"Marm  Lizy,"  said  Nell,  getting  through 
her  self-imposed  confession  with  a  little 
difficulty,  "Marm  Lizy  was  a — a — a 
sort  of  mother  to  me.  She  wasn't  good 
to  me,  and  I  wasn't  good  to  her.  She 
beat  me  sometimes,  and — and  I  didn't 
know  any  better  than  to  hate  her.  I 
wouldn't  do  so  noiv,  I  think.  I  should  be 
sorry  for  her." 


170         NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

"  Where  is  Mann  Lizy  now,  Nel- 
ly?" 

The  boy  did  not  know  what  remem- 
brances that  simple  question  awoke. 

Nelly  did  not  answer,  but  crouched 
down  by  the  fire,  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands. 

After  a  long  interval  she  started  up 
again. 

She  heard  shouts,  faint  at  first,  but 
gradually  growing  nearer. 

She  and  Johnny  set  up  a  long,  loud, 
eager  cry  in  return,  that  woke  a  dozen 
mountain  echoes.  Then  dogs  barked, 
lanterns  gleamed  through  the  dark 
woods,  the  shouts  burst  forth  again, 
and  many  voices  were  heard  calling 
them  by  name ! 

The    fire    had    done    its    work.     The 


NELLY'S  FIRST  SCHOOL-DAYS.         171 

LOST  were  FOUND  at  last,  for  in  a  short 
time  Nelly  was  clasped  in  her  father's 
arms. 

So  terminated  the  picnic. 


THE    END. 


A     000  605  480     3 


